THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


V  { 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 


GOLDEN 


MEDIOCRITY. 


3H  iJSotocL 


BY 


EUGENIE    HAMERTON. 


BOSTON: 

ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1886. 


Copyright,  1S8G, 
By   Rouerts  Brothers. 


atnibtrrsitu  Jprtas: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


J- 

GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 


"Here  is  a  letter  from  England,"  said  Monsieur 
Mole  to  his  wife,  who  was  already  seated  at  the 
breakfast-table  pouring  out  the  cafe-au-lait,  but 
who  suddenly  forgot  all  about  it  to  inquire  eagerly, 

"  From  Jean  ?  " 

"Of  course!  let  us  see  what  he  says,  Papa!" 
exclaimed  Helene,  and  she  went  to  peruse  her 
brother's  letter  over  M.  Mole's  shoulder. 

"He  says  that  lie  will  soon  come  back,"  M. 
Mole  answered  in  a  cheerful,  manly  voice;  "but 
he  is  not  coming  alone.  It  appears  that  Mr.  Pearce 
has  persuaded  his  mother  and  his  cousin  to  spend 
the  vacations  in  France  with  him,  and  it's  decided 
that  they  will  first  try  to  find  suitable  lodgings  in 
our  neighborhood." 

"Now  that  we  are  sure  of  his  coming,  had  we 
not  better  take  our  breakfast  '."  resumed  little 
Madame  Mole,  in  the  somewhat  plaintive  tone 
habitual  to  her ;  "the  milk  is  getting  quite  cold: 


8P  ! 


G  GOLDEN  MEDIOCRITY. 

and  besides,  this  is  not  the  proper  way  to  read  a 
letter.  I  see  Helene  glancing  at  the  top,  then  at 
the  bottom,  while  you  are  trying  to  see  what  is  on 
the  other  side.  Give  me  the  letter,  I  say,  to  put  in 
my  pocket  till  breakfast  is  over,  and  then  we 
shall  read  it  properly  from  beginning  to  end, 
together." 

M.  Mole  obediently  handed  the  letter  to  his 
wife,  with  a  deep  sigh  and  a  humorous  smile, 
which  seemed  to  say,  "  I  know  you  always  have 
your  way,"  —  as  in  fact  she  always  had. 

"It's  such  a  pity,"  resumed  Helene,  as  soon  as 
they  were  seated  again,  "  that  Jean  is  not  coming 
alone!  I  am  afraid,  Hainan,  that  we  shall  see 
very  little  of  him  if  he  acts  as  cicerone  to  his 
English  friends." 

"  Oil !  I  don't  know  ;  Jean  goes  out  a  greal  deal 
when  he  is  here." 

"Yes,  but  he  often  takes  me  with  him." 

"  And  what  will  prevent  him  from  taking  you 
out  ?"  asked  his  father. 

"Oh!"  answered  H&ene,  blushing,  "it  will  be 
his  tiresome  friend." 

uAn  fait,  it's  true  that  Mr.  Pearce  is  not  mar- 
ried," remarked  Madame  Mole\  "but  1  don't  know 
if  he  is  old  or  young.  Perhaps  he  is  engaged  to 
the  cousin  that  Jean  mentions,  since  they  travel 
sther:  I  have  heard  that  long  engagements  are 
quite  common  in  England." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  I 

"  La  !  la  !  this  is  the  way  with  feminine  imagi- 
nations ;  Mr.  Pearce  may  be  a  determined  bachelor, 
for  all  we  know  of  him  ! "  laughed  M.  Mold. 

"  There  is  something  much  more  serious  than 
his  being  or  not  being  engaged,"  thoughtfully  con- 
tinued Madame  Mold.  "  I  should  not  wonder  if 
he  were  a  Protestant." 

"  Most  likely  he  belongs  to  the  religion  of  his 
country;  but  he  may  be  a  very  good  Christian, 
in  spite  of  that,"  M.  Mole"  answered  soothingly. 
Although  sincerely  religious,  he  was  much  more 
tolerant  than  his  wife. 

"  It  will  be  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  meet 
with  a  Protestant,"  said  Madame  Mole",  with  deep 
concern. 

"You'll  see  that  they  are  not  such  monsters 
as  you  imagine  them.  When  I  was  in  Paris,  be- 
fore our  marriage,  I  was  intimate  with  two  learned 
professors  of  the  Sorbonne,  both  of  them  Protes- 
tants, and  both  very  much  loved  and  respected." 
"  Still,  it  will  be  very  awkward." 
" Not  in  the  least.  Nobody  need  mention  relig- 
ious matters  ;  and  as  regards  our  religious  duties, 
we  shall  fulfil  them  as  usual,"  said  M.  Mole"  with 
great  simplicity. 

Breakfast  beincr  over  now,  Toinette  came  to  clear 
the  table  ;  and  as  she  piled  up  the  plates  and  bowls, 
she  asked  M.  Mold,  without  the  least  trace  of  the 
feigned    timidity  generally  assumed    by   servants 


8  GOLDEN   MEDIOCEITY. 

speaking  to  their  masters,  "  whether  M.  Jean  was 
thinking  of  coming  back  at  last?" 

"  Yes,  Toinette,"  kindly  answered  M.  Mole" ;  "  he 
will  soon  be  here,  to'  give  you  plenty  of  work,  as 
usual." 

"I  am  very  glad  all  the  same,"  said  Toinette 
with  a  frank  smile.  "He  has  always  something 
funny  to  say  to  make  me  laugh,  and  the  house 
seems  so  empty  when  he  does  not  come  to  the 
kitchen  ten  times  in  the  day  to  ask  for  something 
or  to  tease  me.  And  I  am  proud  of  him  too,  for 
there  is  not  a  finer  young  man  in  all  Champignol, 
no,  nor  in  the  country  about  either,  as  far  as  I  can 
see.  On  Fridays,  when  I  go  to  market,  I  look  at 
all  the  country  gentlemen  coming  to  town  in  their 
carriages  :  well,  there  is  not  one  of  them  to  look  as 
gay  and  as  manly  as  our  M.  Jean,  —  no,  not  one  of 
them,"  concluded  Toinette  with  great  decision,  as 
she  removed  the  cafetihre  and  pot-au-lait. 

Now  the  perusal  of  the  letter  was  resumed  de- 
murely. Jean,  after  explaining  that  lie  had  been 
received  with  great  kindness  by  Mrs.  Pearce,  and 
that  Pearce  himself  had  been  of  great  service  on 
many  occasions,  begged  his  mother  to  try  to  find 
for  them  a  small  house  with  the  necessary  furni- 
ture, a  garden,  and  a  view.  "  Tell  Manian,"he  said, 
"  that  my  friends  are  ready  i<>  rough  if,  but  to  rough 
it  a  V anglaise,  which  is  no  equivalent  for  our  d  la 
guerre  comme  <)  hi  gut  err.    They  think  they  rough  it 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  9 

if  they  have  no  carpets  on  the  floors  and  if  their 
knives  and  forks  are  not  changed  with  each  dish. 
But  there  is  one  thing  which  may  make  matters 
easy,  —  they  are  willing  to  pay  three  times  as  much 
as  any  Frenchman  would,  ct  sans  marchander." 
Then  he  went  on  to  explain  that  Pearce's  cousin, 
Olive,  was  a  very  nice  girl  indeed,  and  he  hoped 
that  she  would  soon  be  a  friend  to  Helene.  She 
had  now  lived  two  years  with  Mrs.  Pearce,  her 
father  and  mother  being  both  dead,  she  spoke  a 
queer  sort  of  French,  but  she  could  be  understood. 
As  to  Pearce  himself,  he  was  a  well  of  learning 
(un  puits  de  science) ;  he  was  fellow  of  his  college, 
keeper  of  a  museum,  lecturer  on  art,  and  critic,  — 
"a  very  good  fellow  when  you  know  him  as  I  do, 
though  somewhat  chilly  at  first,  according  to  our 
French  notions."  Jean  ended  his  letter  by  send- 
ing lots  of  kisses  to  his  father,  mother,  and  sister, 
un  Ion  souvenir  a  Toinette,  and  by  expressing  the 
hope  of  being  with  them  all  in  the  course  of  a 
fortnight  at  latest. 

All  the  little  household  rejoiced  at  the  welcome 
news,  and  preparations  began  forthwith.  The  win- 
dows of  the  pleasant  room  overlooking  the  garden 
were  thrown  open,  shaded  by  fresh  muslin  curtains ; 
the  floor  was  waxed  and  brushed  till  one  could 
hardly  venture  upon  it  without  skates ;  and  every 
atom  of  dust  pursued  mercilessly  with  the  plumean 
until  it  vanished.     Helene  renewed  the  flowers  of 


10  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

the  vases  every  day,  although  aware  that  her  brother 
was  not  coming  yet  to  enjoy  them,  and  even  Ma- 
dame Mold,  so  heedless  of  domestic  cares  in  general, 
came  at  last  with  lavender  to  scent  the  old  chest- 
of-drawers.  But  as  she  passed  the  door  next  to 
that  of  her  anxiously  expected  son,  she  paused 
a  while  before  the  ever-closed  chamber  where  the 
other,  the  eldest,  would  never  come  again.  The 
tears  came  to  her  eyes,  and  with  a  slow,  heavy 
step  she  went  to  kneel  under  the  crucifix  of  the 
cheerful  room  and  murmured :  "  Thy  will  be 
done ! "  Then  she  rose  and  laid  her  lavender  in 
the  drawers. 

It  was  twelve  years  since  she  had  lost  her  first- 
born, and  the  intensity  of  her  grief  was  such  that 
she  could  not  bear  any  allusion  to  him,  even  yet. 
All  that  had  belonged  to  him  was  shut  in  the  dark 
room  that  nobody  ever  opened.  Till  this  terrible 
bereavement  Madame  Mole  had  never  known  grief. 
She  was  an  only  child,  beloved,  and  indulged  in 
every  wish  ;  she  married  early  the  only  man  who 
had  made  her  young  heart  beat  faster,  and  that 
man's  greatest  aim  in  life  had  been  to  make  her 
happy,  to  spare  her  in  every  possible  way,  to  love 
her  so  devotedly  that  in  case  grief  came  to  her — 
grief  of  such  a  nature  that  he  could  not  shield  her 
from  it — she,  would  find  in  his  heart,  if  not  con- 
solation, at  least  support  to  enable  her  to  bear  it 
with  Christian  resignation.     But  when  the  weight 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  11 

of  this  terrible  sorrow  fell  upon  them  both,  she 
seemed  crushed  by  it  beyond  recovery.  She  could 
neither  eat,  nor  sleep,  nor  pray ;  her  love  for  her 
other  children,  for  her  husband,  was  as  if  it  had 
never  been ;  her  heart  was  turned  to  stone,  except 
where  it  could  suffer.  It  was  then  that  her  hus- 
band's infinite  tenderness  revealed  its  depth  by 
most  delicate  and  constant  care  for  her  wants  and 
by  its  strengthening  and  soothing  influence  on  her 
mental  state. 

It  was  a  long  and  tiring  task  to  reconcile  her 
to  life ;  but  lie  succeeded,  and  thought  himself 
well  rewarded.  Still,  their  existence  was  forever 
changed  ;  Madame  Mole-  lived,  indeed,  but  she 
did  not  forget,  and  her  silent  anguish  could  not  be 
relieved  even  by  her  piety,  for  she  accused  the  re- 
bellion of  her  heart  against  the  laws  of  God.  Her 
husband  vainly  tried  to  persuade  her  that  her  grief 
was  not  rebellious,  but  natural  and  hallowed  ;  she 
knew  that  it  was  excessive,  and  still  she  could  not 
feel  it  less.  Then  a  morbid  fear  of  God's  anger 
possessed  her  soul :  she  looked  upon  her  child's 
death  as  a  punishment  for  her  sins,  and  tried  to 
atone  by  mortification  and  penance.  She  shunned 
society,  and  spent  more  and  more  of  her  time  in 
church  ;  even  in  her  own  home  she1  often  shut  her- 
self up  to  meditate  and  pray.  She  lasted  fre- 
quently,—  too  frequently  for  her  feeble  health, — 
and  in  spite  of  her  confessor's  advice  she  even  wore 


12  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

a  knotted  cord  under  her  garments,  and  assumed  a 
monastic  appearance  which  never  entirely  left  her 
afterwards. 

During  this  great  trial  M.  Mole"  was  admirable ; 
he  never  complained  that,  in  addition  to  his  own 
unspoken  grief,  all  the  comforts  of  his  life  had  sud- 
denly disappeared,  that  his  home  was  turned  into 
a  convent,  and  that  he  was  left  to  dreary  solitude. 
He  surmised  that  a  change  would  be  the  most 
powerful  means  of  giving  another  direction  to  his 
wife's  thoughts,  and  he  sacrificed  without  a  murmur 
all  ambition  for  the  future  by  sending  in  his  resig- 
nation as  -profcsseur  d'kistoire  in  Paris  and .  asking 
to  be  sent  to  Champignol,  his  wife's  birthplace ; 
and  this  was  no  small  sacrifice,  for  a  brilliant 
career  and  celebrity  seemed  open  to  his  great 
learning  and  popularity,  due  to  the  originality 
of  his  views.  His  lectures  were  eagerly  attended, 
and  the  great  men  of  the  university  treated  him 
as  an  equal.  Still,  he  exchanged  his  envied  post 
and  position  against  the  chilling  public  indiffer- 
ence of  a  small  provincial  town. 

Madame  Mold  was  not  suited  now  for  Parisian 
life;  society  was  odious  to  her;  she  needed  calm 
and  rest:  and  these  she  would  find  at  Champignol 
in  a  pretty  little  house  on  tin;  outskirts  of  the 
town,  almost  in  the  country,  where  she  had  been 
born,  where  she  hud  spent  the  first  happy  months 
of  her  married  life,  and  where  she  used  to  conic 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  13 

for  the  vacations  afterwards.  This  belonged  to 
Madame  Mole-,  now  that  her  parents  were  dead ; 
and  the  old  furniture  having  been  respectfully  re- 
tained, the  house  was  almost  ready  to  receive  her 
with  her  family. 

So  they  came  and  settled  at  Champignol,  and  M. 
Mole-  anxiously  watched  for  the  effects  of  the 
change  upon  his  wife.  The  progress  was  slow, 
but  steady.  She  first  consented  to  see  the  oldest 
friends  who  sympathized  with  her,  although  they 
did  not  express  their  sympathy,  haviug  been  warned 
by  M.  Mole- ;  her  interest  in  the  common  details 
of  life  revived  in  the  well-known,  familiar  house ; 
her  younger  children  were  called  again  to  her  side  ; 
and  gradually,  very  gradually,  the  ordinary  course 
of  life  was  resumed. 

A  year  after  their  arrival  at  Champignol,  during 
a  short  absence  of  her  husband,  she  had  sent  the 
children  out  with  their  bonne,  Toinette,  so  as  to  be 
alone ;  then  she  gathered  her  courage  and  strength 
to  enter  the  room  which  had  been  Maxime's  dur- 
ing the  vacations,  and  which  still  contained  all 
that  had  belonged  to  him.  She  did  not  say,  even 
to  her  husband,  what  her  feelings  had  been  during 
the  three  long  and  lonely  hours  she  spent  there, 
but  she  never  had  the  courage  to  go  again  ;  she 
locked  the  door  forever. 

Jean  was  ten  years  old  and  Ilelene  seven  when 
they  came  to  stay  at  Champignol,  and  M.  Mol<5  un- 


14  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

dertook  his  daughter's  education, — which  accounts 
for  the  fact  that  she  was  infinitely  superior,  intel- 
lectually, to  most  young  ladies  of  her  age.  She 
was  the  sunshine  of  her  father's  existence,  with 
her  quiet  cheerfulness  and  tender,  though  serious 
expression  of  face.  He  was  happy  in  his  son  too ; 
but  Jean,  like  all  other  hoys,  had  been  obliged  to 
leave  him  for  his  studies.  After  three  years  spent 
in  a  studio  in  Paris,  he  had  gone  to  London  to  be- 
come acquainted  with  English  art,  for  he  wished 
to  be  an  artist.  His  buoyant  animal  spirits  had 
never  been  damped  by  the  depressing  influence 
of  his  mother,  and  Helene  looked  forward  to  his 
return  with  real  joy  and  happiness,  for  they  were 
very  much  attached  to  each  other.  Until  Jean 
reached  his  eighteenth  year  they  had  not  been  sep- 
arated, the  girl  being  educated  at  home  and  the 
boy  going  to  his  college  only  a  few  hours  daily. 
M.  Mold  prepared  young  men  for  their  examina- 
tions and  superintended  his  boy's  studies  at  the 
same  time. 

The  house  would  have  been  melancholy  enough 
for  HdK'iie  without  her  brother's  mirth  and  com- 
pany; but  with  him  she  never  realized  that  it  was 
not  as  bright  and  cheerful  as  it  should  have  been 
for  children.  They  had  much  in  common  :  they 
drew  and  sang  together;  he  helped  her  with  her 
lessons,  and  she  taught  him  music.  Moreover 
there  was  a  little  fact  that  Jean  had  never  forgot- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  15 

ten,  and  for  which  he  had  always  been  grateful  to 
his  sister ;  it  was  this :  when  he  went  to  school 
and  made  friends,  he  wished  very  much  to  invite 
them  to  his  house,  but  dared  not,  fearing  that  his 
mother  might  not  think  of  preparing  the  little 
feast  usually  offered  in  such  circumstances.  Then 
he  did  not  like  the  idea  of  not  entertaining  his 
friends  as  well  as  he  had  been  entertained  by 
them.  At  last  he  confided  his  annoyance  to  his 
sister.  Hdlene  immediately  offered  to  take  upon 
herself  the  responsibility  of  providing  and  prepar- 
ing what  was  thought  necessary,  and  henceforth, 
with  the  help  of  Toinette,  there  was  always  a  nice 
goUtcr,  with  cakes  and  custards,  fruits  or  jellies, 
when  her  brother's  friends  came  to  play  with  him. 
This  led  to  an  important  increase  in  M.  Mold's 
comforts ;  because  Hdlene's  interest  in  household 
matters  once  aroused,  she  soon  perceived  how  neg- 
lected they  were,  and  tried  to  mend  them.  Her 
mother's  attention  could  only  be  momentarily 
brought  to  bear  on  the  necessaries  of  life  by  great 
effort,  and  she  soon  allowed  her  daughter  to  be- 
come the  real  housekeeper:  it  was  an  immense 
relief  to  her  not  to  have  to  think  about  details. 

In  this  manner  it  happened  that  M.  Mold's 
house  resumed  in  a  few  years  the  comforts  and 
charms  of  a  well-kept  home.  Such  was  the  state 
of  things  when  Jean  wrote  that  he  should  soon 
be   back   at   ChampignoL      He'lene  was  the  real 


16  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

mistress  of  the  house,  in  spite  of  her  perfect  defer- 
ence towards  her  mother,  whose  slightest  wish  was 
law  to  husband  and  children ;  and  in  Champi- 
gnol  it  was  well  known  that  Mademoiselle  Mole', 
though  so  young,  4tait  unefemme  decompile. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  17 


II. 


On  a  fine  morning  in  the  beginning  of  August 
the  rattling  of  the  omnibus-wheels  over  the  sharp 
stones  of  the  rue  Ste.-Pacifique  and  the  noise  made 
by  the  driver  in  cracking  his  whip  caused  the 
inhabitants  of  the  quiet-looking  houses  on  both 
sides  to  rush  to  their  windows  and  to  wonder 
at  the  unaccustomed  sight  of  several  travellers 
alighting  at  M.  Mole's  door.  It  was  opened  before 
the  omnibus  reached  the  house,  and  on  the  door- 
step stood  Madame  Mole*  and  Hedene,  anxious  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  Jean  as  soon  as  possible.  With- 
out waiting  for  the  omnibus  to  stop,  he  had  jumped 
out,  and  was  still  kissing  his  mother  and  sister  alter- 
nately, when  Mrs.  Pearce  entered  the  court-yard, 
led  by  M.  Mole,  who  had  been  to  meet  her  at  the 
station,  and  followed  by  her  son  and  niece. 

The  feeling  of  astonishment  was  great  on  the 
side  of  the  ladies  at  each  other's  appearance,  and 
their  good-breeding  was  scarcely  sufficient  to  hide 
it  entirely.  Homely  little  Madame  Mold  could 
hardly  believe  that  the  shining  ladies  standing 
before  her  were  the  tired  travellers  she  had  been 

2 


18  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

expecting;  fans,  scent-bottles,  aumdnikres  hanging 
at  their  sides  from  silver  chains,  bracelets  dangling 
about  their  wrists,  and  elaborately  trimmed  cos- 
tumes, were  the  upsetting  of  all  her  ideas  of  a  toilette 
de  voyage.  On  the  other  side,  the  English  ladies 
experienced  a  shock  of  bewilderment  when  M. 
Mole"  introduced  as  "  ma  femme "  the  little  lady 
in  the  plain  monastic  gray  garb.  However,  the 
uneasy  feeling  was  soon  disguised  under  polite- 
ness, and  laughter  came  to  the  rescue  when  the 
English  ladies  attempted  to  speak  French,  and 
when  the  host  and  hostess  declared  that  they  did 
not  speak  English  at  all. 

During  the  inevitable  confusion  ensuing,  it  be- 
came Pearce's  turn  to  be  surprised  at  the  sight 
of  Jean  heartily  kissing  Toinette  on  both  cheeks 
in  the  court-yard. 

"  La !  Monsieur  Jean,"  she  exclaimed,  crying 
and  laughing  at  the  same  time,  "  I  declare  you 
are  still  the  same  in  your  ways,  although  so  much 
altered.  Mais,  ma  foil  I  should  not  have  known 
you  again  if  you  had  not  kissed  me  in  the  old 
fashion,  for  you  are  as  ugly  as  a  bear,  with  all 
those  hairs  bristling  about  your  face.  Quel  dom- 
mage !  you  used  to  be  so  handsome  before." 

At  which  Jean,  turning  towards  Pearce,  said  to 
him:  "  What  will  become  of  me  now  that  the  only 
woman  who  ever  thought  me  handsome  tells  me 
to  my  f;u:e  that  I  am  ugly  ? " 


GOLDEN  MEDIOCRITY.  19 

Pearce  evidently  thought  it  all  very  strange; 
and  leaving  Jean  to  shake  hands  with  Mathieu, 
the  gardener,  he  followed  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Mold  into  the  house. 

The  visitors  had  been  shown  into  the  salon,  a 
large,  cheerful  room  with  a  lofty  ceiling  crossed 
by  heavy  oak  beams  in  their  natural  state,  and 
two  glass  doors  opening  into  the  garden  and  act- 
ing as  frames  to  the  beautiful  and  not  distant  hills 
rising  boldly  towards  the  deep  blue  sky.  Some 
magnificent  old  chestnut-trees  formed  an  open 
semicircle  at  the  end  of  the  garden  so  as  not  to 
interfere  with  the  extensive  view. 

The  floor  was  of  polished  oak  ;  the  long  and  dim- 
med looking-glass  over  the  mantelpiece  was  sur- 
rounded by  carved  wood  painted  a  light  gray  like 
the  narrow  folding-doors,  each  surmounted  by 
faded  pictures  of  doves  and  flowers  in  oval  gray 
panels.  The  seats  belonged  to  the  same  style  of 
decoration,  and  there  was  a  subtle  and  pleasant 
harmony  in  the  weak  tones  of  the  old  tapestry 
and  those  of  the  faded  panels.  Two  slender  and 
graceful  consoles  with  white  marble  tops  and 
twisted  gilt  legs  were  all  that  remained  of  the  old 
time  ;  the  modern  was  represented  by  an  excellent 
Pleyel  piano,  an  immense  book-case,  with  oak 
columns,  entirely  filling  up  one  side  of  the  room 
from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling,  and  a  square  carved 
oak  table  covered  with  books,  reviews,  and  work- 


20  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

baskets  of  different  sizes.  Why  and  by  whom  had 
the  plaster,  which  must  have  covered  the  beams 
when  the  salon  had  been  decorated  in  the  Louis 
XV.  style,  been  removed  ?  M.  Mold  did  not 
know ;  but  the  alteration  was  certainly  a  happy 
one,  because  it  enabled  the  eye  to  go  from  the 
dark  and  heavy  pieces  of  furniture  to  the  dark  and 
heavy  beams  above  without  surprise  or  repulsion  ; 
and,  strange  to  say,  this  heterogeneous  promis- 
cuity of  sombre  and  light  colors,  of  slender  and 
massive  forms,  of  styles  so  far  apart,  produced 
a  singularly  pleasant  impression,  to  which  Mrs. 
Pearee  was  not  insensible,  for  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh, 
combien  jole* ! "  as  soon  as  she  entered. 

Olive  was  admiring  the  view  and  Helene  was 
naming  the  hills  to  her.  The  girls  seemed  pleased 
to  be  together,  and  tried  to  get  on,  in  spite  of  their 
difficulty  with  each  other's  language;  but  when 
-lean  came  towards  them,  Olive  suddenly  stopped 
short  in  her  French  sentence  and  said,  laughing: 
"  Now,  M.  Jean,  you  will  have  to  act  as  interpre- 
ter, as  I  should  not  dare  to  speak  French  before 
you." 

"  And  why  ? " 

"  Because  you  would  laugh  at  me;  I  know  you 
are  very  sarcastic." 

"Now,  this  is  very  hard  upon  mo;  And  may 
I  ask  when  I  have  so  misbehaved  as  to  laugh  at 
your  French  ?" 


GOLDEX   MEDIOCRITY.  21 

"Well,  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  laughed 
openly;  but  your  suppressed  smile  whenever  I  ask 
for  anything  from  the  railway  people  since  our 
arrival  in  France  is  ten  times  worse,  I  can  assure 
you." 

"  Then  I  promise  solemnly  never  to  suppress 
my  smiles  any  more.  But  pray  how  are  you  to 
make  Helene  understand  you  when  I  chance  to  be 
present  ?  and  I  mean  to  be  present  as  much  as 
possible." 

"  This  is  just  to  tease  us  !  But  I  remember  now 
that  you  told  me  your  sister  understood  English, 
though  she  did  not  speak  it ;  therefore  I  can  talk 
to  her  in  my  own  language,  and  she  will  reply  in 
hers  :  it  will  be  most  amusing." 

"  Yes,"  said  Helene ;  "  but  please  use  the  simplest 
words,  and  speak  very  slowly.  I  am  not  accus- 
tomed to  the  intonations." 

"  You  are  baffled  ! "  cried  Olive  exultingly  as  she 
passed  before  Jean  to  go  up-stairs,  after  being  in- 
vited to  take  off  her  hat.  Her  aunt  also  followed 
Madame  Mole  to  her  room;  but  the  difficulty  of 
coining  to  an  understanding  was  greater  for  the 
ladies  than  for  the  girls,  Madame  Mole*  being 
totally  unacquainted  with  the  English  tongue, 
while  Mrs.  Pearce's  French  was  so  fanciful  in 
construction  and  so  unexpected  in  pronunciation 
that  her  meaning  was  seldom  clear.  The  ladies 
however  contrived  to  look  as  if  they  understood 


22  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

each  other  thoroughly  during  the  short  time  that 
they  were  alone,  and  hastened  to  meet  again  the 
gentlemen  in  the  salon. 

Very  soon  the  door  was  thrown  open  by  Toinette 
in  a  capacious  white  apron  and  frilled  coiffc,  to  an- 
nounce "Madame  est  servie;"  then  they  all  went 
into  the  dining-room,  where  a  dejetcner-d-la-fov/r- 
ehette  was  served. 

Helene  sat  near  Fearce,  and  simply  expressed 
her  regret  not  to  be  able  to  speak  English ;  he  re- 
plied that  it  did  not  much  matter  with  him,  because 
he  had  long  been  accustomed  to  French,  and  in- 
deed he  spoke  it  with  imperturbable  assurance. 
As  he  was  asking  a  second  time  for  "croquettes 
de  pommes-de-terre,"  he  remarked,  "  C'est  une 
delicacie !" 

"  I  beg  pardon,  Monsieur,"  answered  Toinette, 
offering  him  the  dish,  "  they  are  called  croquettes." 

Jean  and  Helene  avoided  looking  at  each  other, 
and  immediately  began  to  be  deeply  interested  in 
the  contents  of  their  plates  ;  but  they  were  reserved 
for  a  more  serious  trial  when  Mrs.  Pearce,  encour- 
aged by  her  previous  attempts,  began  the  story  of 
their  voyage  across  the  Channel 

"Kong  nous  quittong,"  she  began  resolutely; 
then  she  paused  to  correct  herself,  —  "quittiong." 
Not  being  quite  certain,  she  began  again:  "Kong 
nous  quittaames."  But  having  to  put  all  the  fol- 
lowing verbs  to  the  same  tense  was  formidable; 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  23 

it  was  better  to  start  again  on  a  surer  ground: 
"  Kong  nous  avong  quitteV'  By  this  time  she  was 
so  bewildered  with  all  her  corrections  that  she  re- 
peated several  times,  "  quittong,  quittiong,  quitteV' 
without  arriving  at  a  decision ;  at  last  she  went  on 
recklessly,  for  fear  of  stopping  again :  "  Kong  nous 
avong  quitted  il  fait  beaucoup  de  vin,  oh!  beau- 
coup." 

"  C'est  vrai,  Madame,"  said  Jean,  coming  to  her 
help  as  soon  as  he  could  trust  himself,  "  et  vous 
avez  ndanmoins  6t6  tres  brave." 

"  Oh,  oui !"  she  answered,  much  relieved  by  this 
timely  help;  but  she  did  not  resume  her  nar- 
rative. 

Once  dejeuner  over,  they  went  into  the  garden, 
where  coffee  was  waiting  for  them.  The  gentlemen 
lighted  their  cigars  and  strolled  about ;  the  English 
ladies,  unaccustomed  to  the  great  heat  of  a  French 
afternoon  in  August,  fanned  themselves  languidly, 
and  were  glad  to  sit  in  the  shade,  in  the  open  air. 
They  were  under  a  charmillc,  open  at  the  top,  where 
the  sky  of  lapis-lazuli  could  be  seen.  The  tray, 
with  its  dainty  cups  of  Sevres  porcelain  and  tiny 
liqueur-glasses,  occupied  the  middle  of  the  white 
stone  table.  The  fragrance  of  most  delicious  Mocha 
brought  back  the  two  young  men.  Jean  stopped 
at  some  distance  from  the  opening  in  the  eharmille 
and  called  his  friend's  attention  to  the  pretty  pic- 
ture inside  it. 


24  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  It  would  just  suit  an  impressioniste"  said 
Pearce. 

"  I  am  only  impressionnahle"  laughed  Jean  ;  "  but 
it  suits  me  just  as  well.  Now,  Helene,"  lie  went 
on,  "  I  see,  or  rather  smell,  that  you  have  not  for- 
gotten how  to  make  the  best  coffee  that  I  ever 
tasted  in  my  life ;  hasten  to  give  us  a  cup,  for  I 
have  been  deprived  of  it  for  nearly  a  year." 

"Oh,  dear!"  exclaimed  Madame  Mole',  "why 
did  you  deprive  yourself  of  such  an  innocent 
luxury  ? " 

"  Merely  because  Helene  had  spoilt  me." 

"  And  because  he  dares  not  say  that  English  wo- 
men don't  know  the  art  of  making  coffee,"  added 
Pearce. 

"  Why  !  you  take  yours  every  morning,  and  never 
complain,"  replied  his  mother  with  astonishment. 

"Yes,  I  take  mine  every  morning,  and  every 
morning  I  think  it  is  the  vilest  beverage  that  one 
could  swallow,  except,  perhaps,  cocoa ;  as  to  com- 
plaining, what  would  it  avail  ?  Nobody  knows 
where  the  fault  lies.  .  .  .  This  is  indeed  deli- 
cious," he  added,  addressing  Hdlene,  "and  I  per- 
fectly understand  your  brother's  regrets  when  lie 
was  deprived  of  it.  I  shall  have  my  regrets  too 
when  I  go  away."  He  was  looking  at  her  intently 
as  he  said  this,  and  she  felt  slightly  embarrassed. 
The  fact  is  that  Pearce  had  just  discovered  that  his 
friend's  sister  was  handsome,  and  he  felt  elated  by 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  25 

his  discovery.  At  first  sight  he  had  not  given 
much  attention  to  her.  According  to  her  custom, 
she  was  neatly  but  simply  dressed,  and  the  mod- 
esty which  made  her  keep  in  the  background  had 
not  attracted  his  notice;  but  now  that  she  was  the 
only  one  standing,  to  pour  out  the  cafe,  her  grace- 
ful form  was  relieved  by  the  dark-green  foliage 
behind  her,  and  he  remarked  that  she  was  tall  and 
dignified,  like  her  father.  He  admired  the  thick 
auburn  tresses  coiled  in  a  somewhat  antique  fash- 
ion about  the  small  head,  the  large,  quiet,  deep- 
gray  eyes,  and  the  youthful  but  firm  lines  of  her 
lips,  and  he  wondered  that  he  had  not  thought  her 
a  beauty  from  the  first  moment  that  he  saw 
her. 

Unconscious  of  his  reflections,  his  cousin  had 
promptly  offered  to  learn  to  make  coffee  that  he 
would  like.  "Mademoiselle  Hedene  will  be  so 
kind  as  to  teach  me,  I  hope,"  she  said. 

"Ah!  but  I  don't  know  whether  even  this  do- 
mestic talent  would  set  you  up  in  Pearce's  esteem," 
remarked  Jean,  with  a  slight  touch  of  sarcasm ; 
"it  might  take  you  away  from  more  profitable 
studies,  you  know." 

"Oh!  during  the  vacations  — "  pleaded  Olive, 
looking  at  her  cousin.  "You  don't  expect  me  to 
work  much  now,  do  you  ? " 

"  I  never  expect  you  to  work  more  than  you  can 
help,"  he  answered  somewhat  dryly. 


26  GOLDEN  MEDIOCRITY. 

She  looked  grieved,  but  not  hurt. 

"  Well,  Miss  Olive,"  said  M.  Mote,  "  since  your 
cousin  is  so  terribly  earnest  about  work,  allow  me 
to  provide  you  with  a  defensive  weapon  when  he 
attacks  you  on  this  point;  repeat,  after  a  very 
clever  Frenchman,  that  le  temps  le  micux  employe 
est  eclui  que  Von  perd." 

"  I  am  sure  I  should  like  to  believe  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Pearce,  "  particularly  just  now,  when  it  seems  so 
hard  to  leave  your  pleasant  company  to  be  harassed 
by  domestic  cares ;  but  it 's  already  getting  late  in 
the  afternoon,  and  we  have  to  set  up  our  tent  for 
the  night  —  I  mean  to  get  acquainted  with  our 
quarters.  Oh,  dear !  I  am  so  frightened  at  the  idea 
of  housekeeping  in  a  foreign  country." 

"  I  think  you  will  find  it  very  simple  and  easy," 
answered  Hdlene ;  "  and  if  I  can  be  of  any  use  I 
shall  be  most  happy." 

"  Oh  !  Aunt,  it  will  be  such  fun !  I  long  to 
begin." 

"Then  in  order  to  begin  we  must  take  leave. 
But  pray,  M.  Mold,  how  are  we  to  get  there  ? " 

"  I  shall  drive  you  to  the  place,  if  you  '11  allow 
me.  Jean,  tell  Mathieu  to  harness  lioussotte.  There 
will  be  room  for  us  all  in  the  break,  as  the  lug:_r 
has  been  sent  forward,  and  I  think  lldlcne  would 
like  to  show  you  over  the  place." 

"  Do  come,  it  will  be  delightful ! "  said  Olive  in 
her  pretty,  coaxing  way. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  27 

"  And  you  too,  pray,  Madame  Mold,"  said  Mrs. 
Pearce. 

With  a  melancholy  shake  of  the  head  Madame 
Mole-  declined. 

"  Maman  never  goes  anywhere  and  never  accepts 
an  invitation,"  gravely  explained  Helene  while  she 
led  the  ladies  towards  the  house  to  put  on  their 
bonnets. 

They  were  too  well  bred  to  express  any  surprise, 
still  they  exchanged  a  rapid  look  of  wonder. 

The  break  being  now  ready  in  the  court-yard, 
Jean  went  to  pat  indiscriminately  the  nose  of 
Eoussotte  and  the  head  of  the  small  boy  who  held 
her.  "  How  are  you  now,  my  old  Eoussotte  ? "  he 
said  caressingly  ;  "  getting  gray,  hey  ?  We  '11  soon 
be  obliged  to  change  your  name  and  call  you  Grise, 
if  you  don't  mind!  .  .  .  And  you,  Cadet,  —  what ! 
so  much  grown  since  last  year  ?  Do  you  mean  to 
become  a  tambour-major  ?" 

"  Oh,  non,  Monsieur  Jean  ! "  the  small  boy  an- 
swered bashfully,  but  evidently  proud  of  his  young 
master's  notice.  "  I  am  now  your  father's  servant, 
under  Madame  Toinette." 

"  Ah,  bah  ! "  Jean  burst  out  laughing,  "  there  is 
no  end  to  our  extravagance  ;  two  male  servants  !  " 
with  this  he  jumped  into  the  break  and  offered  to 
drive. 

"  No,  no  ! "  said  his  father ;  "  I  am  accustomed  to 
put  up  with  the  slow  pace  of  Eoussotte,  as  I  take 


28  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

her  eighteen  years  into  consideration,  and  I  don't 
think  you  would  agree  very  well  together." 

They  felt  somewhat  tight  in  the  little  break,  but 
they  just  managed  to  sit  in  it.  Mathieu's  sabots 
clattered  on  the  small  sharp  stones  of  the  court- 
yard as  he  opened  the  doors,  and  Cadet  let  go 
lioussotte,  who,  in  spite  of  her  age,  set  off  at  a  brisk 
trot  and  once  again  brought  to  their  windows  the 
inhabitants  of  the  rue  Ste.-Pacifique. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  29 


III. 


It  was  but  a  twenty  minutes'  drive  from  M. 
Mole"s  house  to  the  one  which  Mrs.  Pearce  was  to 
occupy,  and  which,  being  detached  from  the  town, 
possessed  a  name  of  its  own  and  was  called  "La 
Saulaie,"  on  account  of  a  fine  group  of  willows 
whose  unusual  height  rendered  them  visible  over 
the  top  of  the  roof  at  a  considerable  distance; 
their  remarkable  growth  was  due  to  a  stream 
which  made  a  little  pool  at  their  roots  before  it 
glided  away  in  a  narrow  ribbon  around  part  of 
the  garden. 

Olive  was  delighted  to  think  that  their  abode 
would  not  be  distinguished  from  the  others  by  a 
mere  number ;  and  then  the  name  "  La  Saulaie 
sounds  so  poetical !  "  she  exclaimed. 

Margot,  the  servant-girl  engaged  by  Helene  for 
Mrs.  Pearce,  had  prepared  some  cakes  and  white 
wine  in  the  petit  salon  for  her  unknown  unstress's 
arrival,  and  she  hastened  to  get  some  deliriously 
cool  water,  with  the  remark  that  "Ces  messieurs 
et  ces  dames  devaient  avoir  bien  soif  par  eette  cha- 
leur."     Mrs.  Pearce  hardly  knew  what  to  say  to 


30  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

her,  but  she  was  pleased  by  her  neat  appearance 
and  look  of  healthy  cheerfulness. 

La  Saulaie  was  rather  a  large  house  for  its 
present  tenants,  and  very  well  furnished.  It  had 
been  built  by  a  rich  gentleman  of  Champignol  for 
his  own  use,  and  not  with  the  intention  of  letting 
it.  He  had  now  been  dead  two  years,  and  his 
widow  had  gone  to  live  in  Paris  during  the  time 
of  her  children's  education.  She  had  no  \vTish  to  let 
La  Saulaie,  where  she  intended  to  come  back  some 
time ;  but  as  M.  Mold  was  a  very  intimate  friend 
of  hers,  and  seemed  desirous  of  securing  a  comfort- 
able habitation  for  his  son's  acquaintances,  she  gra- 
ciously consented  to  the  proposed  arrangement,  by 
which  the  English  tenants  had  the  use  of  every- 
thing in  the  house,  down  to  plate  and  linen.  The 
gardener  left  in  charge  of  the  place  offered  to  make 
himself  useful  whenever  he  was  needed :  this  he 
did  at  M.  Mold's  request,  out  of  gratitude  for  the 
situation,  which  he  owed  to  him. 

The  garden  burned  with  the  rich  colors  of  the 
flower-beds  under  a  dazzling  sun  just  in  front  of 
the  house,  while  plenty  of  shade  could  be  had  at 
the  back  in  the  jardin  anglais.  The  whole  was 
kept  in  perfect  order,  as  the  mistress  might  come 
at  any  time  ;  and  during  her  absence  the  gardener 
was  allowed  to  sell  the  fruit  and  vegetables.  He 
offered  to  supply  Mrs.  Pearee  with  what  she  would 
think  necessary  in  garden-produce.     But  the  lady 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  31 

answered  that  she  had  no  intention  of  troubling 
herself  with  these  details ;  her  son  would  make  an 
arrangement  with  an  hotel-keeper,  and  their  meals 
would  be  sent  to  them  regularly :  it  was  far  sim- 
pler; she  only  wanted  the  liberty  of  making 
bouquets. 

Hedene,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  practise 
economy,  was  astounded  at  what  seemed  to  her 
reckless  extravagance.  "  Money  must  be  of  no  con- 
sequence to  them,"  she  thought ;  she  had  expected 
that  Margot  would  do  the  cooking.  As  she  rapidly 
reckoned  what  this  plan*would  cost,  she  could  not 
help  attempting  to  modify  it,  and  suggested  that 
perhaps  it  would  be  agreeable  to  Mrs.  Pearce  to 
have  her  own  supply  of  wine  sent  from  a  wine- 
merchant,  as  it  would  be  better  and  cheaper  than 
what  she  would  get  from  an  hotel. 

"  Oil !  yes,  that  would  be  very  nice  indeed ;  it 
would  save  a  vast  amount  of  trouble.  But  how  was 
she  to  set  about  it  ? " 

M.  Mold  offered  to  take  Pearce  to  his  own  wine- 
merchant,  and  this  offer  was  accepted. 

After  they  had  visited  all  the  rooms  in  the 
house,  and  Mrs.  Pearce  had  expressed  her  entire 
satisfaction,  llelene  remarked  that  they  had  not 
seen  the  kitchen  ;  there  they  all  went,  and  Olive 
was  enraptured  at  the  sight  of  the  row  of  bright 
brass  pans,  and  was  particularly  interested  by  the 
tiled  charcoal  fowneau.      "Oh!    how  amusing  if 


32  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

must  be  to  cook  over  these  tiny  holes,"  she  ex- 
claimed ;  "  and  what  funny  shapes  and  contriv- 
ances !     I  wonder  what  they  are  all  for  ? " 

"  I  shall  tell  you  another  time,"  answered  He*- 
lene ;  "  it  is  too  late  to-day.  Besides,  I  am  afraid 
of  overtasking  the  gentlemen's  patience." 

"  Oh  !  I  can  be  very  patient  in  a  tidy  kitchen 
with  pretty  young  ladies ;  the  fact  of  their  pres- 
ence generally  indicates  that  something  will  be 
the  necessary  result.  And  I  give  my  thorough 
approbation  to  sweets,  —  do  you,  Pearce  ?  "  Jean 
inquired. 

"  Of  course  no  meal  is  complete  without  sweets," 
Pearce  answered  seriously ;  "  but  cooks  are  equal 
to  their  preparation.  My  enjoyment  of  ladies' 
society  would  be  rather  in  the  salon  than  in  the 
kitchen." 

"  Your  opinions  may  be  good  enough  for  a  critic, 
but  they  are  nevertheless  anti-artistic,"  retorted 
Jean  with  great  glee  and  a  side-look  to  Olive; 
"you  are  nothing  of  a  gourmet  if  your  palate  is 
not  sensitive  enough  to  distinguish  the  matter-of- 
fact  entremets  of  the  paid  cook  from  that  expressly 
prepared  by  the  delicate  hands  and  refined  percep- 
tion of  a  pretty  lady  for  your  own  delectation." 
"  A  pretty  lady  like  Toiuette  !  "  laughed  M.  Mold. 

"()li!  Toinette  is  so  for  ;ibove  ordinary  cooks 
lint  she  no  longer  belongs  to  the  confraternity; 
why,  Toinette  is  an  artist!" 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  33 

"  What  a  gourmand  you  are  ! "  exclaimed  Olive ; 
"  I  had  never  suspected  it  till  now." 

"  You  see  he  could  not  indulge  himself  iu  Ene- 
land,"  said  Pearce ;  "  our  young  ladies  had  some- 
thing else  to  do,  it  appears,  than  prepare  sweets 
for  his  delectation." 

"  They  might  employ  their  time  in  a  worse 
manner;  for  instance,  in  studying  philosophy. 
Come,  come  away,  Hdlene ;  I  don't  want  him  to 
spoil  you  with  his  transcendental  theories  ! "  and 
Jean  hurried  his  sister  into  the  garden. 

It  was  now  time  to  leave  Mrs.  Pearce  to  her 
own  devices,  and  she  seemed  somewhat  fretful  at 
the  prospect ;  it  was,  however,  decided  that  she 
should  soon  call  upon  Madame  Mold,  and  the  girls 
planned  to  see  each  other  as  often  as  possible, 
after  which  they  separated. 

Although  the  novelty  of  the  sensations  experi- 
enced that  day  by  Mrs.  Pearce,  her  son,  and  Olive 
had  been  very  agreeable,  they  felt  somewhat  jaded, 
and  a  little  rest  was  welcome.  They  went  to  the 
salon,  where  each  of  them  chose  an  easy-chair, 
sank  in  it,  and  with  shut  eyes  remained  silent  for 
some  time.  Soon,  however,  Olive  exclaimed  : 
"  What  a  dear  old  gentleman  is  M.  Mold ! " 

"  Charming ! "  answered  her  aunt;  "  what  affable 
manners !  .  .  .  But  how  strange  his  wife  is,  and 
what  deference  he  shows  towards  her!  I  thought 
it  quite  touching  to  sec  his  tall  frame  bent  to  the 

3 


34  GOLDEN   MEDIOCEITY. 

little  lady,  as  in  protection,  when  lie  addressed  her; 
and  then  the  tenderness  of  his  tones !  .  .  .  How 
very  curious  that  she  never  accepts  an  invitation ! 
.  .  .  Her  daughter  must  lead  a  very  retired  life ; 
still,  she  is  perfectly  lady-like." 

"  I  suppose  she  has  to  go  through  a  deal  of 
domestic  drudgery,  judging  from  what  we  saw ;  it 
looks  very  much  as  if  they  kept  only  one  maid 
for  everything  inside  the  house.  In  that  case  you 
would  not  find  much  interest  in  Mademoiselle 
Hdlene's  society,  Olive ;  her  acquisitions  cannot 
be  very  extensive,"  said  Pearce. 

"  Her  brother  has  told  me  that  she  was  one  of 
the  best-educated  girls  he  had  ever  known,"  an- 
swered Olive. 

"  According  to  his  French  notions,  perhaps. 
Frenchmen  differ  greatly  from  us  on  the  question 
of  female  education ;  they  think  women  know 
quite  enough  when  they  can  make  up  an  account 
and  write  a  decent  letter.  "What  they  ask  from 
them  is  to  keep  the  house  comfortable,  in  spend- 
ing as  little  money  as  possible ;  while  Ave  want  to 
raise  women  to  our  own  intellectual  level,  to  be 
able  to  associate  with  them  on  a  footing  of  equal- 
ity. We  want  them  to  become  in  the  future  our 
friends  and  companions:  you  see  the  difference. 
A  married  Frenchman  spends  almost  all  his  lei- 
sure%ime  in  the  cafes,  never  minding  if  his  wife 
is  alone,  because  in  his  cafe  he  will  find  well-in- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  35 

formed  men  to  talk  to,  while  at  home  he  has  only 
a  sort  of  superior  servant  to  keep  him  company." 

"  It  is  horrible  ! "  cried  the  girl  in  great  indig- 
nation  ;  "  how  can  Frenchwomen  put  up  with  such 
treatment  ? " 

"  It  is  the  custom  of  their  country,  and  there- 
fore they  don't  imagine  anything  else.  Even  in 
England,  where  men  are  naturally  domestic,  they 
too  often  find  it  extremely  difficult  to  stay  at 
home,  for  want  of  interest,  when  their  womenkind 
are  either  frivolous  or  ignorant.  Our  task  is  a 
difficult  one.  When  the  ladies  are  old  there  is  no 
remedy,  and  we  must  resign  ourselves ;  when 
they  are  young,  if  we  try  to  help  them  on  towards 
knowledge  they  consider  us  as  bores,  or  else  make 
their  feeble  attempts  in  so  lazy  and  disconnected 
a  manner  that  we  are  necessarily  discouraged,  and 
have  to  give  it  up." 

"  But,"  pleaded  Olive  in  a  humble  tone,  "  are 
not  women  in  general  less  fitted  for  intellectual 
efforts  than  men  ?  I  am  sure  I  feel  seriously  de- 
sirous of  acquiring  as  much  learning,  under  your 
direction,  as  I  am  capable  of,  and  I  try  my  best  to 
fix  my  attention  when  I  study,  and  I  try  to  be  in- 
terested too ;  but  I  can't  for  long." 

"There  is  the  evil!  you  fancy  you  can't.  Then 
you  must  learn  to  discipline  your  mind  and  your 
taste." 

"  I  shall  try,"  she  answered  submissively. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"Oh,  dear!"   yawned  Mrs.  Pearce,  awakening 

from  a  short  doze  with  a  little  start,  "  it  must  be 

ting  almost  dinner-time,  and  nothing  is  ready  ; 

and  I  do  so  want  a  cup  of  tea!  .  .  .  You  must 

need  your  tea  too,  Olive  ?" 

"I  think  I  should  like  a  cup  very  much;  shall 
I  try  to  make  some,  aunt  ?  We  have  brought  a 
tinful  in  one  of  the  hags,  and  I  daresay  Margot 
could  boil  some  water  for  us." 

"Yes,  see  wind  you  can  do,  dear.  Meanwhile, 
Henry,  you  had  better  go  and  order  our  dinner  at 
some  hot  1:  perhaps  you'll  get  a  cup  of  tea  on 
youi  return." 

Pearce  went  away,  and  Olive  managed  to  ex- 
plain  to  Margot  that  she  wished  to  have  some 
boiling  water  to  make  ten.  "Ah!"  said  Margot, 
with  a  look  of  dcrj)  concern,  "Madame  is  unwell, 
since  she  wants  sa  tisane  (/<  the;  no  wonder,  after 
■  I  much  !" 

Very  soon  the  water  boiled  over  the  red  lumps 
of  charcoal,  and  when  Pearce  came  hack  from  his 
errand  la-  was  cheered  by  the  familiar  sight  of  the 
tray,  which  Olive  had  unpacked,  together  with 
the  elegant  Bilver  service.  The  tea  itself  was 
praised  and  enjoyed  to  the  very  last  drops;  after 
which  Mr-.  Pearce,  wishing  the  table  to  be  cleared, 
valiantly  ordered  Margot  "de  de*porter  le  cabaret." 
Luckily  hi  ire  helped  the  girl  to  understand 

meaning,  and  Bhe  wa  -  obeyed. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCEITY.  37 

From  this  day  they  began  a  "  Frenchified  exist- 
ence/' as  Mrs.  Pearce  said,  and  they  found  the 
change  exceedingly  refreshing.  The  difficulties 
anticipated  did  not  turn  out  very  formidable,  as 
Olive  really  knew  French  very  well,  although  she 
spoke  it  with  a  peculiar  pronunciation,  thought  so 
very  pretty  by  Madame  Mold  that  this  lady  said 
it  was  a  pity  to  correct  it,  as  Olive  would  never 
afterwards  speak  as  charmingly  as  she  now 
did. 

Pearce  was  often  out  with  M.  Mold,  who  showed 
him  the  public  library  aud  musec,  of  which  he  was 
the  keeper.  The  young  man's  respect  for  the 
older  one  was  rapidly  growing  as  day  by  day  he 
discovered  in  him  more  learning,  more  interest  in 
science  than  he  had  ever  dreamed  of  finding  in  any 
one  so  modest  and  unassuming.  His  disinterested 
love  of  study,  of  intellectual  labor,  made  him  ac- 
complish an  enormous  amount  of  work ;  for  be- 
sides what  Pearce  called  the  "  drudgery  "  of  his  life, 
though  not  such  to  him,  who  took  a  lively  interesi 
in  it,  —  his  lessons  at  the  college  and  to  his  private 
pupils, —  he  was  a  member  of  several  soci4t&  scien- 
tifiqueSyarchAologigues^hotaniques,  etc.,  and  an  active 
member  too,  pursuing  researches,  making  discov- 
eries, sending  or  reading  papers.  His  correspon- 
dence was  also  a  heavy  one,  as  he  answered  many 
queries  and  widely  used  his  influence  to  augment 
the  importance   of  the  public  library  and  musee 


38  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

which  he  had  called  into  existence  with  so  much 
resolution  and  perseverance.  Then  his  extreme 
human  kindness  and  ready  sympathy  led  him  to 
provide  help  of  different  kinds  for  whomsoever 
asked  for  it,  and  many  applied  because  it  was 
known  that  he  generally  succeeded  in  finding 
what  would  suit  them.  There  was  not  a  young 
man  leaving  the  college  of  Champignol  for  higher 
studies  in  Paris  who  did  not  come  to  ask  M.  Mole" 
for  a  recommendation  to  his  future  professors,  or 
for  advice  to  obtain  access  to  sources  of  informa- 
tion reserved  as  privileges. 

Pearce  Mas  soon  aware  of  all  this,  because  he 
went  almost  every  day  to  see  Jean,  and  frequently 
found  him  in  his  father's  cabinet  reading,  while 
M.  Mole*  was  at  work.  The  conversation  would 
naturally  fall  on  the  work  begun,  because  they  all 
took  an  interest  in  it,  though  in  different  degrees; 
for  instance,  the  artistic  department  of  the  m,us4e 
often  embarrassed  the  keeper,  as  he  knew  more 
of  science   than   of  art.      In   such   cases  -lean   ami 

Pearce  were  of  real  use.  When  a  picture  orstatu- 
ette  was  offered  either  for  sale  or  as  a  gift,  M. 
Mole*  did  not  always  feel  certain  of  its  artistic 
value,  and  lie  asked  for  Pearce's  opinion  with  the 
utmost  simplicity.  They  often  took  long  walks  in 
or  about  the  ou1  kirts  of  Champignol,  and  Lt  was 
delightful  i"  hear  M.  Mel/'  talk  about  its  history. 
I !•■  knew  the  olde  I  annals  of  '.lie  place,  he  had 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  39 

studied  every  stone  of  the  monuments,  and  was 
acquainted  with  all  their  transformations. 

Champignol  is  an  old  fortified  town,  once  of 
great  importance,  built  on  the  summit  of  a  hill, 
whose  declivity  is  now  covered  with  luxuriant 
gardens  where  the  ramparts  used  to  frown ;  it  is 
so  steep  and  on  so  many  different  levels  that  wind- 
ing paths  are  the  only  means  of  communication 
between  the  upper  and  lower  part,  unless  one  has 
both  the  time  and  will  to  go  the  whole  round  by 
the  main  road.  M.  Mold  was  perfectly  intimate 
with  every  one  of  these  narrow  ways,  with  their 
stone  steps  to  insure  a  firmer  footing  in  the  steep- 
est parts;  and  he  liked  to  lead  his  guest  to  the 
most  picturesque  places  and  to  point  out  the  many 
towers  which  still  remained,  like  forsaken  sentries, 
watching  over  the  safety  of  the  town.  The  con- 
trast between  the  grim  wall  of  the  ancient  fortifi- 
cations and  the  white  cheerful  buildings  on  the 
slopes  of  the  sunny  gardens  was  not  to  be  im- 
agined, it  must  be  seen  ;  and  Pearce  went  over  and 
over  again,  now  for  archaeological  study  with  .A I. 
Mold,  now  for  artistic  enjoyment  with  Jean,  who 
was  never  tired  of  sketching  the  various  effects  of 
light  and  shade  over  the  wonderful  landscape. 

One  day  Pearce  arrived  in  the  morning  at  M. 
Mold's,  intending  to  have  a  long  walk  with  Jean  : 
but  to  his  disappointment  Toinette  told  him  that 
"Monsieur   Jean   with   Mademoiselle    had    gone 


40  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

away  very  early,  each  carrying  a  color-box  ;  and  that 
was  a  sign  that  they  would  not  come  back  soon." 

"  Does  Mademoiselle  Hedene  paint,  then  ? " 
asked  Pearce,  incredulously. 

"  Paint !  .  .  .  I  should  think  she  does,  and  beau- 
tifully too ! "  cried  Toinette  with  great  emphasis, 
suspecting  a  sort  of  snub  in  the  dubious  tone,  and 
resenting  it  accordingly.  "  I  can  tell  all  the  names 
of  the  flowers  whose  portraits  she  paints,  just  as 
if  I  saw  them  in  the  fields;  and  when  there  is  a 
loteric  dc  charit/,  Monseigneur 1  always  begs  Ma- 
demoiselle to  send  a  piece  of  her  painted  pottery 
to  be  exhibited  along  with  the  lots  given  by  the 
pr(fet  and  ddpntSs." 

"  Oh,  indeed ! "  smiled  Pearce,  very  much 
amused  by  the  warmth  of  Toinette's  enthusiasm. 
Then  he  inquired  where  he  was  likely  to  hud 
Jean,  his  intention  being  to  walk  as  far,  in  order 
to  come  back  with  him.  Toinette's  hesitation  in 
giving  an  answer  struck  him  as  entirely  foreign 
to  her  usual  readiness;  she.  looked  embarrassed, 
and  replied  thai  she  was  not  certain  of  their 
whereabouts.  After  a,  short  pause  she  looked  at 
Pearce  steadfastly,  saying :  "  Fou  understood,  Mon- 
Bieur,  that  Mademoiselle  is  with  her  brother  '.  " 

"Yes,  I  understood  that  very  well,"  replied 
Pearce,  very  much  astonished  by  her  manner; 
"what  of  thai 

1  The  bi  bop. 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  41 

"  I  forgot  to  tell  Monsieur  that  neither  her 
father  nor  mother  was  with  Mademoiselle." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Pearce,  abashed  by  Toinette's  dig- 
nity, "  I  see.  .  .  .  Good  morning ;  I  shall  call  an- 
other day ;  "  and  as  he  went  away  he  thought,  not 
without  a  little  sense  of  mortification,  that  a  ser- 
vant had  given  him  a  lesson.  "  How  absurd 
these  French  customs  are,  not  to  allow  a  fellow  to 
meet  a  girl  except  in  the  presence  of  her  parents  !" 
he  murmured  to  himself.  "  Still,  I  should  have 
reflected  that  I  was  putting  her  in  a  false  position 
if  we  had  come  back  together ;  perhaps  they  '11 
think  I  go  too  frequently  soon,  and  that  Toinette 
would  not  mind  giving  me  a  hint,  I  believe.  .  .  . 
How  curious  is  the  position  of  French  servants  in 
some  cases  !  .  .  .  I  think  they  are  allowed  too 
much  liberty ;  it  may  be  disagreeable  sometimes." 
But  in  his  inmost  heart  the  vexation  about  Toi- 
nette was  not  half  so  oreat  as  against  the  rules 
which  she  had  recalled  to  his  mind,  and  which  for- 
bade him  to  enjoy  as  often  as  he  wished  the  sight 
and  company  of  a  girl  in  whom  he  felt  a  growing 
interest. 


ll!  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 


IV. 


There  exists  at  some  distance  from  Champignol 
a  remarkable  chateau  belonging  to  Monsieur  le 
Marquis  Hector  cle  Civray  de  Champignol,  de- 
scribed at  great  length  in  the  "  guides,"  which  no 
tourist  travelling  in  that  part  of  France  leaves 
unvisited.  Mrs.  Pearce  having  learned  that  the 
proprietor  graciously  allowed  those  visits  at  any 
lime  and  without  any  special  permission,  asked 
M.  Mole*  for  the  best  means  of  getting  there.  He 
answered  that  he  could  drive  her  so  far,  and  that 
they  would  be  shown  even  the  private  apartments 
of  the  family  :  the  sister  of  the  present  Marquis 
had  been  his  pupil,  and  the  intercourse  was  still 
kept  up. 

The  great  historical  house  de  Civray  de  Cham- 
pignol  was  paying  now  a  heavy  price  for  its 
princely  splendor.  For  the  Lasl  three  generations 
there  had  been  from  time  to  time  anion-  the  heirs 
some  victims  of  marriages  between  near  rela- 
tion-. At.  first  the  scourge  Beemed  undecided  in 
its  capricious  choice.  It  fell  once  upon  the  first- 
born, a    girl,  and  she  was  lather  deaf;   the   second 

child  escaped;   bul  the  third  was  completely  deaf. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  43 

The  same  calamity  attended  the  following  genera- 
tion, increasing  in  severity.  Out  of  nine  children 
born  of  this  marriage  four  died  quite  young,  three 
were  idiots,  the  youngest  girl  alone  had  no  infirm- 
ity, while  the  heir  was  deaf  and  dumb.  He  was 
father  to  the  present  Marquis  and  died  early, 
leaving  to  his  widow  the  almost  overpowering 
responsibility  of  bringing  up  a  family  of  seven 
children,  all  deaf  and  dumb  except  the  heir,  to- 
gether with  the  management  of  one  of  the  largest 
landed  estates  in  France.  M.  Mold  had  been  of 
great  service  to  her  in  several  circumstances  after 
the  death  of  the  late  Marquis.  He  had  provided 
tutors  and  governesses  from  the  deaf-and-dumb 
asylum  in  Paris;  lie  had  undertaken  the  all  but 
hopeless  task  of  calling  back  the  memory  which  the 
present  Marquis  had  lost  after  a  severe  attack  of 
typhoid  fever,  by  gently  teaching  him  over  and 
over  again  the  rudiments  of  the  education  lie  had 
once  possessed.  The  memory  came  back  gradu- 
ally; but  the  clear,  brilliant  intelligence  remained 
clouded  forever.  Xot  that  the  Marquis  Hector  de 
Civray  was  an  idiot,  or  anything  like  one.  He  had 
great  common-sense,  together  with  an  average  cul- 
ture ;  but  how  different  was  this  mental  state  from 
the  remarkable  intellectual  powers  which  had  made 
him  come  out  third  from  the  examination  for  the 
Fxole  Polytechnique !  And  the  saddest  part  of 
his   sad   story   lies   in  the   consciousness   of   his 


44  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

irremediable  inferiority  to  his  proud  position  as 
representative  of  the  great  house  de  Civray  de 
Champignol.  His  bodily  strength  had  also  been 
much  weakened,  and  at  twenty-eight  he  looked 
as  if  he  were  thirty-five. 

All  this  was  told  by  M.  Mole"  to  Mrs.  Pearce 
and  her  son  so  that  there  should  be  no  expression 
of  surprise  if  they  happened  to  meet  with  any 
member  of  the  stricken  family  during  their  visit 
at  the  castle. 

It  was  decided  that  Mrs.  Pearce,  her  son  and 
niece  would  go  together  with  M.  Mold,  Jean,  and 
Hdlene,  Madame  Mold  remaining  at  home  as 
usual.  Accordingly,  they  started  early  on  a  fine 
morning,  with  provisions  for  a  picnic  in  the  box; 
and  they  all  felt  very  merry,  in  spite  of  the  melan- 
choly fate  of  the  family  whose  abode  they  were 
going  to  see. 

The  ride  was  lovely,  —  along  forests  veiled  by 
the  thin  transparent  mist  rising  from  the  many 
rivulets  like  a  gilt  and  crimson  gauze;  now  on 
rapidly  rising  ground  above  a  small  plain  of  given 
pastures  like  a  calm  emerald  lake,  then  between 
lofty  walla  of  granite  rock,  with  their  rose  and 
gray  lichens  blooming  quietly  under  the  re- 
freshing summer  springs;  down  again  by  the 
clear  river  babbling  over  the  moss-covered  sto] 

SOOll  hushed  again  in  the  sleepy,  shady  [tools  be- 
loved of  t  he  kingfisher. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  45 

When  they  came  to  a  steep  rising,  the  young 
people  jumped  down  to  relieve  Eoussotte,  and 
laughed  and  chatted  joyously  till  they  came  to  a 
level,  when  they  resumed  their  seats. 

At  ten,  sundry  complaints  about  hunger  began 
to  be  made;  they  were  repeated  with  increased 
emphasis  at  short  intervals,  and  half  an  hour  later 
it  was  unanimously  agreed  to  seek  out  a  dry  and 
sheltered  place  in  which  to  lunch  comfortably.  It 
was  soon  found,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  eminence  to 
which  the  embattled  towers  of  the  chateau  formed 
a  gigantic  crown,  in  the  style  of  those  binding  the 
brows  of  statues  personating  fortified  towns. 

A  space  of  short,  thick  velvety  grass  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  away  from  the  road  and 
sheltered  by  clumps  of  fine  chestnut-trees,  was 
declared  particularly  suitable  for  the  object  in 
view.  Eoussotte  was  quickly  taken  out  of  harness, 
and  immediately  went  splashing  to  the  midst  of 
the  stream,  where  she  thought  the  water  most  in- 
viting. The  baskets  were  taken  out  of  the  box, 
their  contents  were  spread  upon  the  cloth  softly 
laid  upon  the  grass,  while  the  wine-bottles  cooled 
in  the  shallows. 

They  made  a  merry  party,  with  their  healthy 
appetites  sharpened  by  a  short  fast  and  their  ken 
enjoyment  of  whatever  was  enjoyable.  At  first  the 
young  people  ate  ravenously,  remaining  speechli  ss 
for  some  time  ;    but  gradually,  their  hunger  being 


46  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

appeased,  they  talked  as  much  as  before,  though  in 
a  somewhat  disconnected  manner,  now  telling  an 
anecdote,  now  making  a  passing  remark. 

"Helene!"  called  out  Jean,  "I  hope  we  are  to 
have  some  coffee.  .  .  .  Not  that  I  think  of  myself, 
Miss  Olive ;   my  anxiety  is  for  the  ladies." 

"  Of  course  we  ought  to  be  very  much  obliged," 
laughed  Olive ;  "  only  we  don't  put  implicit  faith 
in  your  declaration.  What  if  we  were  not  to 
allow  you  a  cup  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  it  was  decidedly  ungrateful,  as  I 
was  the  mover  of  the  motion." 

Helene,  with  the  help  of  Pearce,  had  set  fire  to 
the  spirit-lamp  which  was  to  boil  the  water.  It 
had  seemed  to  her  for  some  time  past  that  the 
course  of  her  ordinary  life  was  altered,  she  did  not 
know  why;  but  to-day  the  feeling  was  stronger 
than  ever.  She  became  aware  of  I'earce's  pleasure 
in  her  presence,  not  by  his  words,  but  by  always 
finding  him  at  her  .side,  by  his  readiness  to  share 
in  anything  that  she  did,  by  his  endeavors  to 
lead  her  into  conversations  which  might  reveal 
in  her  her  tastes  or  ideas.  Sim  was  beginning  to 
be  flattered  by  his  attentions,  because  he  was  gen- 
erally sparing  of  such.  She  felt  not  only  happy, 
but  elated  to-day,  —  a  sensation  she  seldom  ex- 
perienced, her  usual  mood  being  quiet  cheerfulness. 
Was  ii  because  Pearce's  face  was  animated  by  an 
unwonted  expression  of   pleasure  ?   because  there 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  47 

shone  in  his  eyes  a  spark  of  unsuspected  tender- 
ness when  they  rested  upon  her  ? 

"  I  say,  Hdlene,"  began  her  brother,  after  remain- 
ing silent  a  while,  "  I  have  not  heard  your  voice 
since  I  came  back.  Suppose  you  were  to  sing 
something  to  beguile  the  weary  time  of  suspense 
till  coffee  is  ready." 

"  Oh,  do ! "  cried  Olive,  clapping  her  hands ; 
"  music  is  the  only  thing  we  now  want." 

Then  Hdlene  began  to  sing,  quite  simply  and 
naturally,  as  a  bird  does,  the  lovely  "Chanson  de 
Fortunio : "  — 

"  Si  vous  croyez  que  je  vais  dire 
Qui  j'ose  aimer, 
Je  lie  saurais  pour  un  empire 
Vous  la  uoramer. 

"  Nous  allons  chanter  a  la  ronde, 
Si  vous  voulez, 
Que  je  1'adore  et  qu'elle  est  blonde 
Comme  les  bles. 

"  Je  fais  ce  que  sa  fantaisie 
Veut  m'ordonner, 
Et  je  puis,  s'il  lui  faut  ma  vie, 
La  lui  donner. 

"  Du  mal  qu'une  amour  ignoree 
Nous  fait  souffrir 
J'emporte  Fame  dechirde 
Jusqu'a  mourir. 

"  Mais  j'aime  trop  pour  que  je  die 
Qui  j'ose  aimer, 
Et  je  veux  mourir  pour  ma  mie 
Sans  la  nomnier." 


48  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

The  mellow,  sympathetic  voice,  the  charm  of 
the  interpretation,  moved  all  the  listeners. 

"  What  a  talent  you  have ! "  exclaimed  Pearce, 
unable  to  control  his  admiration,  "and  what  an 
exquisite  song  this  is  ! " 

"  Yes,"  echoed  Mrs.  Pearce,  though  totally  inca- 
pable of  understanding  French  poetry;  "it's  very 
pretty  indeed,  very." 

Suddenly  Jean,  who  had  thrown  himself  at  full 
length  on  the  grass,  to  listen  at  ease,  rose  up  and 
said  iu  an  undertone:  "Look  sharp!  there  is 
another  amateur  of  music  not  far  off;  I  saw  his 
legs,  if  not  his  face,  which  he  hides  behind  the 
branches  of  a  tree." 

All  the  eyes  were  immediately  in  search  of  the 
intruder,  and  he  very  likely  became  aware  that 
he  was  discovered,  for  he  began  to  move  rapidly 
towards  the  river.  He  was  (all  and  spare,  dressed 
in  light  gray  linen  garments,  and  was  carrying  a 
fishing-rod. 

"It  is  the  Marquis  de  Civray,"  said  M.  Mole\ 
as  the  gentleman  drew  near;  "Jean,  you  must  go 
and  offer  your  respects.'' 

They  both  went  towards  the  Marquis,  leaving 
their  friends  a  lew  paces  back;  and  to  Mrs. 
Pearce's  surprise  she  saw  M.  Hector  de  Civray 
shaking  hands  rather  warmly  villi  M.  Mole*  ami 
saying  a  few  words  of  welcome  to  .lean  on  his 
return.     He  inquired  after  Madame  .Mole's  health 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  49 

and  sent  her  his  compliments.  Then  he  made  a 
few  steps  which  brought  him  quite  near  the  group 
of  friends,  to  whom  he  bowed  slightly,  and  turned 
to  Hedene,  who  had  risen  to  meet  him. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  "  I  will  not  miss  the 
opportunity  of  conveying  to  you  my  sister's  com- 
plaints about  the  rarity  of  your  visits ;  she  lately 
thought  of  writing  to  you.  You  know  that  your 
company  is  greatly  valued.  Have  you  any  mes- 
sage for  her  ? " 

"  Tell  Mademoiselle  Irene  that  I  shall  go  to  see 
her  as  soon  as  possible.  My  time  has  been  very 
much  taken  up  lately;  but  I  shall  explain.  And 
pray,  Monsieur,  do  not  forget  to  give  her  my  love." 
She  curtseyed  ;  the  Marquis  bowed  low  and  went 
away  to  his  fishing. 

It  may  be  said  that  from  that  moment  Hdlene 
rose  infinitely  in  the  estimation  of  her  English 
friends.  She  was  on  speaking  terms  with  a  Mar- 
quis, claimed  affectionately  by  his  sister,  pressed 
to  come  to  the  chateau  !  .  .  .  the  daughter  of  a 
simple  college-master  !  It  was  bewildering.  Even 
Pearce  was  deeply  impressed  by  this  short  scene, 
and  was  by  no  means  proof  against  the  influence 
of  the  Marquis's  marked  politeness  to  He'lene. 
When  she  returned,  perfectly  unconscious  that 
anything  unusual  had  happened,  she  had  acquired 
an  importance  which  changed  her  in  their  eyes,  or 
at  least  opened  them.     Pearce  saw  in  a  moment 

4 


50  GOLDEN  MEDIOCRITY. 

how  much  of  self-possession  and  quiet  dignity  she 
had,  and  his  mother  discovered  that  her  carriage 
was  really  aristocratic.  As  to  Olive,  she  was  as- 
tounded at  her  friend's  calm  demeanor  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  marquis,  —  not  even  a  blush  had  come 
over  her  face ! 

"  I  think  it 's  time  we  should  be  going  up,"  said 
M.  Mold,  "  if  you  wish  to  see  the  grounds  and 
park,  which  are  very  extensive." 

So  they  took  their  coffee  and  packed  the  things 
in  the  baskets.  Roussotte  was  quickly  harnessed, 
and  M.  Mole"  and  Mrs.  Pearce  were  soon  seated  in 
the  carriage;  the  young  people  boasted  of  arriving 
first,  and  preferred  to  walk. 

Olive  and  Jean  led  the  way  ;  they  did  not  mind 
the  heat,  and  were  almost  running. 

"  I  know  a  place  among  the  rocks,"  Jean  had 
told  her,  "  where  the  prettiest  little  pink  flowers 
bloom  ;  shall  I  show  them  to  you  ?" 

"  By  all  means  ! " 

"We  must  hasten,  then,  because  it's  not  just 
on  the  road,  but  by  the  side  of  it,  above  the  river. 
.  .  .  Is  not  this  better  than  a  walk  in  muddy 
London  to  go  and  attend  a  lecture  on  geometry, 
eh!  Miss  Olive?" 

"I  am  ashamed  to  say  I  enjoy  it  infinitely 
more." 

"Don't  l)e  ashamed,  Pearce  can't  hear  youj 
perhaps  lie  is  talking  geometry  to  Helene." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  51 

"  You  should  not  sneer  at  my  cousin  like  that, 
M.  Jean ;  you  know  that  he  is  working  hard 
himself,  and  that  his  culture  is  serious  and 
deep,"  remonstrated  Olive,  shaking  her  pretty 
bead. 

"  Sneer  ?  Oh,  no  !  I  only  laugh,  and  generally 
to  his  face.  But  you  should  not  turn  against  me 
because  I  try  sometimes  to  protect  you ;  he  is  too 
exacting.  Does  he  mean  to  make  a  doctor  of  you, 
or  to  send  you  to  Girton  ? " 

"  I  believe  he  would  be  satisfied  if  I  could  dis- 
tinguish myself  somehow ;  but  I  feel  that  I  have 
no  particular  gifts,  and  am  therefore  destined  to 
disappoint  him.  I  am  very  sorry,  very ;  in  spite 
of  all  the  trouble  he  takes  with  me,  I  shall  never 
become  a  learned  woman."  The  girl's  humility 
was  irresistibly  winning ;  Jean  stopped  and  looked 
tenderly  in  her  innocent  eyes. 

"And  do  you  think  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  be  a  learned  woman  to  make  other  people 
happy  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  I  know  that  my  cousin  will 
never  love  an  ordinary  woman,"  she  answered, 
without  thinking  of  the  meaning  which  might  be 
attached  to  her  words. 

Jean  was  aware  of  a  chill  passing  over  his 
heart,  and  lie  shuddered  slightly.  He  walked  in 
silence  after  that  and  more  slowly,  until  Olive, 
surprised  not  to  hear  his  merry  voice  for  so  many 


52  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

minutes,  quickly  turned  round  and  noticed  that 
a  great  change  had  come  over  his  face.  "Are  vou 
poorly  ?  "  she  asked  anxiously. 

"  Oh,  no !  I  was  only  reflecting  about  what  you 
have  told  me,  and  how  right  you  are  to  admire 
Pearce  ;  few  are  like  him  !  " 

"  Few  indeed !  Think  what  a  position  Henry 
occupies  in  literature  and  art  at  his  age ;  he  is 
only  thirty,  and  steadily  rising." 

"  Yes ;  it 's  a  iine  thing.  .  .  .  Are  you  ambitious, 
Miss  Olive?" 

"  Ambitious  in  what  way  ?  Of  money  or  posi- 
tion ?  .  .  .  I  have  very  little  ambition  for  either,  I 
assure  you." 

They  now  turned  from  the  road,  and  after  walk- 
ing a  few  seconds  under  the  trees  they  came  to  an 
open  space  overhanging  the  river,  where  the  pinks 
had  chosen  to  bloom  in  the  dazzling,  unshaded 
light  of  the  long  summer  days.  The  grass  did  not 
grow  in  this  line,  sandy  soil ;  it  was  like  a  cloth  of 
gold  embroidered  with  satin  flowers  for  the  dance 
of  the  water-nymphs  when  they  rise  in  the  night 
upon  the  river-mist. 

"How  little  one  expects  to  find  such  a  place  as 
this  from  the  road,"  said  ( Hive. 

Jean  was  silently  gathering  a  bouquet  of  the 
small  pink  flowers,  which  he  gave  her. 

"I  shall  keep  them,"  she  said,  as  she  put  them 
in  her  hat;  "they  will  be  a  soiwenir  of  my  pleas- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  53 

ant  visit  to  France,  and  the  sight  of  them  will 
always  recall  to  me  this  most  pleasant  day." 

"  Will  yon  think  of  the  donor  too  ?" 

"  Of  course ;  I  am  not  likely  to  forget  any  of 
those  associated  with  this  charming  excursion.  .  .  . 
But  I  hear  Henry's  voice;  he  has  overtaken  us." 
Then  she  dashed  under  the  trees  and  emerged 
triumphant  upon  the  road,  holding  her  hat  with 
the  flowers  in  it  to  show  thein  to  her  cousin. 

"  Do  you  know  who  is  my  milliner  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  It 's  Jean,"  answered  Hedene  ;  "  he  always  had 
a  particular  love  for  these  millets,  and  used  to 
come  and  gather  some  for  Maman  sometimes.  I 
wondered  what  had  become  of  you  both." 

Jean  was  thinking  how  differently  tilings  had 
turned  out  from  what  lie  had  fondly  anticipated. 
He  had  intended  to  offer  at  the  same  time  his 
heart  and  his  flowers,  and  had  ventured  to  hope 
that  neither  of  them  would  be  rejected.  He  had 
planned  to  take  Olive  to  the  lonely,  pretty  spot 
and  to  tell  her  that  he  meant  to  love  her  always 
as  he  did  to-day,  if  he  were  allowed.  Perhaps 
she  would  be  a  little  surprised,  and  would  require 
time  to  know  her  own  heart;  perhaps  she  would 
put  his  love  to  the  test  and  talk  of  a  long  en- 
gagement. Oh  !  he  could  accept  that,  or  anything, 
—  they  were  so  young!  .  .  .  And  instead  of  the 
pretty  scenes  he  had  rehearsed  in  his  mind,  there 
had  been  for  him  a  great  disenchantment.     Invol- 


54  GOLDEN   MEDIOCKITY. 

untarily,  artlessly,  she  had  shivered  all  his  hopes 
(thank  God !  before  they  were  expressed)  by  the 
innocent  expression  of  her  love  for  her  cousin. 
Well !  it  was  a  hard  blow ;  but  he  would  try  to 
recover. 

Meanwhile  Pearce  had  questioned  Hdlene  about 
her  acquaintance  with  Mademoiselle  de  Civray. 
"  How  did  it  come  to  pass  ?  .  .  .  Was  she  not  deaf 
and  dumb  ?  .  .  .  How  did  they  manage  to  get 
oii  ? " 

"  Oh  !  it  was  very  simple.  When  the  Marquis 
recovered  from  his  illness  it  was  sometimes  im- 
possible for  M.  Mold  to  go  regularly  to  the  chateau 
to  give  him  lessons.  Then  M.  de  Civray  came  soi- 
disant  on  business,  —  for  his  loss  of  memory  was 
kept  secret  from  the  public;  and  it  happened  that 
not  infrequently  he  brought  his  sister  with  him 
for  a  change,  and  although  the  girls  could  not 
speak  to  each  other,  they  played  together.  When 
there  was  a  difficulty  or  misunderstanding,  they 
explained  it  upon  a  slate;  hut  Irene  was  so  in- 
telligent that  they  rarely  had  recourse  to  writing." 
Moreover,  M.  Mold  had  suggested  to  Belene  that  it 
would  be  a  great  kindness  if  she  Learned  the  deaf- 
and-dumb  alphabet  from  the  governess,  because 
her  means  of  communication  with  her  friend 
would  be  so  much  more  perfect.  She  agreed  to 
do  so,  and  Irene  was  delighted  ;  now  their  conver- 
sation was  very  rapid  when  they  were  alone,  but 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  55 

she  felt  bewildered  if  any  of  Irene's  sisters  or 
brothers  were  present.  However,  her  friend  was 
glad  enough  to  have  her  entirely  to  herself  when 
she  went,  and  prevented  intrusions. 

"  How  very  generous  it  was  of  you  to  go  through 
such  a  task  ! "  said  Pearce,  moved  to  admiration. 

"  It  amused  me  very  much  at  the  same  time,  I 
assure  you.  Children  always  like  to  imitate  others; 
and  if  I  had  to  struggle  sometimes  against  a  diffi- 
culty,  I  was  amply  rewarded  by  the  affectionate 
gratitude  which  was  shown  to  me,  even  by  Ma- 
dame la  Marquise." 

The  boast  of  the  young  people  was  now  real- 
ized ;  they  stood  at  the  gates  of  the  chateau  before 
Roussotte.  She  was  not  far  behind,  however,  and 
soon  made  her  appearance.  A  servant  took  her  to 
the  stables  when  Mrs.  Pearce  and  M.  Mole'  had 
alighted  from  the  carriage. 

From  the  entrance  to  the  park  they  had  a  very 
good  view  of  the  chateau,  —  indeed,  it  can  be  seen 
all  round,  standing  as  it  does  upon  an  eminence 
just  sufficient  for  the  building,  which  is  consider- 
able. From  the  outer  walls  the  grounds  slope 
immediately  in  rapid  declivities,  interrupted  here 
and  there  by  a  flat,  level  space  where  the  waters 
congregate  and  form  several  ponds. 

Mrs.  Pearce  remarked  the  analogy  of  the  archi- 
tecture, and  even  of  the  stone,  with  that  of  some 
old  towers  in  the  North  of  England ;  she  was  also 


56  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

very  much  interested  by  the  mosaics  of  the  floors 
and  by  the  old  tapestries,  but  especially  by  the 
private  apartments.  In  the  salon  she  was  struck 
by  the  quantity  of  works  in  different  stages  of 
completion, —  embroidery,  crochet,  knitting  in  satin 
or  straw  baskets,  or  lying  upon  the  tables  and 
chairs;  drawings  in  pencil  and  charcoal;  books 
kept  open  by  heavy  ivory  knives ;  desks  spread 
with  notes  ready  for  copy  :  every  indication  of 
an  unusually  industrious  household.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  a  consolation  for  the  want  of  human 
intercourse  had  been  largely  sought  in  the  pursuit 
of  the  fine  arts,  as  well  as  in  literature,  for  the 
library  was  immense. 

The  silence  which  reigned  throughout  the  cha- 
teau, in  spite  of  its  numerous  dwellers,  both  mas- 
ters and  servants,  seemed  almost  painful  to  the 
visitors,  as  if  it  were  felt,  like  Egyptian  darkness. 
The  contrast  of  so  much  splendor  with  so  much 
misery  weighed  upon  their  imagination  like  a 
nightmare,  till  they  became  a  prey  to  the  weird 
sensation  of  being  in  an  enchanted  castle  when 
they  were  shown  several  skulls  brought  forth  out 
of  the  oubliettes  by  one  of  the  late  marquises. 

The  existence  >>f  these  oubliettes  had  been  denied  ; 

but  the  Marquis  had  seen  them  mentioned  in  the 

chronicles  of  Civray,  and  alter  several  years  of 
useless  research  he  discovered  a  sort  of  well  in- 
side one  of  the  towers  used  as  donjon,     lint  the 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  57 

well  had  been  walled  up.  Big  holes  were  open  in 
the  masonry,  and  revealed  the  existence  of  long 
knives,  or  blades,  stretching  from  the  sides  towards 
the  interior,  at  different  heights  and  alternate  posi- 
tions, leaving  no  doubt  as  to  the  fiendish  use  of 
the  well.  The  Marquis  "after  this  discovery  re- 
solved to  ascertain  whether  any  poor  victims  had 
really  been  thrown  into  the  oubliettes.  He  con- 
trived by  the  aid  of  an  architect  to  have  an  open- 
ing made  in  the  ground  below,  from  which  he  was 
let  down  by  a  rope  (cautiously,  for  fear  of  some 
hidden  knife)  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  well.  He 
reached  it  safely,  for  the  blades  were  no  longer 
inserted  after  a  certain  depth  ;  the  murderous  work 
would  be  achieved  before  the  victim  had  passed 
the  last.  When  the  Marquis  was  brought  up 
again,  unconscious,  his  hand  tightly  clutched  a 
human  skull. 

"  Oh !  aunt,  let  us  go  out,"  murmured  Olive ; 
"  I  do  so  want  to  breathe  a  little  fresh  air  after 
this." 

In  the  several  courts  between  the  towers  they 
noticed  a  croquet-ground,  a  target,  and  a  tennis- 
lawn,  and  were  again  painfully  reminded  of  the 
owner's  infirmity  by  the  thought  that  all  tf 
games  might  be  played  in  silence.  But  how  dif- 
ferent were  their  own  mirthful  associations  with 
the  same  objects ! 

It  was  pleasant  after  this   to  go  and  see  the 


58  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

hoary  chestnuts  of  the  park,  with  their  long 
branches  stretching  out  till  they  met  the  neigh- 
boring ones  and  formed  grand  and  lofty  avenues, 
impenetrable  to  the  sun,  under  which  the  young 
people  played  at  hide-and-seek  in  the  empty 
trunks  of  the  oldest  trees.  They  continued,  un- 
mindful of  the  hour,  until  Mrs.  Pearce  seriously 
declared  it  was  high  time  they  should  go ;  indeed 
it  was  already  so  late  that  they  did  not  reach 
Champignol  before  the  sun  had  set. 

"  Dear  me ! "  Mrs.  Pearce  exclaimed  suddenly, 
"  we  have  not  given  any  orders  about  our  dinner. 
What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  !  "  answered  her  son  ;  "  I  shall 
just  go  to  the  hotel  and  tell  them  to  send  any- 
thing that  may  be  ready." 

"  If  the  prospect  of  a  poor  supper  does  not 
frighten  you  too'  much,  Mrs.  Pearce,  will  you  share 
ours,  whatever  it  is  ?"  simply  said  M.  Mold. 

"A  la  fortune  du  pot !  "  added  Jean. 

"Oh!  I  could  not  think  of  such  a  thing  at 
such  a  time;  and  Madame  Mold  unwarned  too!" 

"  Maman  will  be  very  glad,  I  am  sure,"  said 
Helene;  "and  she  might  get  anxious  if  we  went 
first  to  your  house  to  leave  you  there,  for  she  must 
be  wondering  what  lias  become  of  us." 

"Well,  if  T  were  sun'  that  it  would  be  no 
trouble,  I  should  certainly  hi'   delighted." 

"  It  \s  settled  then,   Mrs.   Pearce.     Sidney,  my 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  59 

good  fellow,  you  '11  have  to  tighten  your  belt  some- 
what; to-day.  the  case  stands  thus:  quand  il  y  en 
a  pour  quatre,  il  y  en  a  pour  sept.  Don't  get  too 
melancholy  over  the  prospect,  however;  I  shall 
use  all  my  influence  over  Toinette  to  obtain  an 
omelette  aux  truffles  as  she  alone  can  make  one." 

They  soon  arrived.  HeTene  quickly  busied  her- 
self about  the  welfare  of  her  guests.  Olive  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  help,  and  followed  her  friend 
into  the  kitchen,  where  she  found  Jean  coaxing 
Toinette  for  the  sake  of  the  famous  omelette. 

"  I  tell  you,  M.  Jean,  that  it  is  not  the  proper 
thing ;  an  omelette  does  very  well  for  a  dejeuner, 
but  it  never  was  served  at  a  dinner,  —  and  to 
English  people  besides !  .  .  .  What  would  they 
think  of  me  ?  .  .  .  " 

"  They  would  think,  if  you  made  it  as  delicious 
as  you  generally  do,  that  you  are  the  best  cook  in 
the  world !  .  .  .  And  moreover  you  might  call  it 
an  entree,  you  know." 

"  And  would  you  allow  me  to  see  you  make  it, 
Madame  Toinette  ?  "  asked  Olive,  in  her  pleasant 
voice;  "  it  would  be  such  a  good  opportunity  for 
me  to  learn." 

"At  your  service,  Mademoiselle,"  answered 
Toinette,  flattered,  and  already  beginning  to  cut 
the  desired  truffles  into  slices.  "  I  never  could 
refuse  M.  Jean  anything;  you  see  he  has  such 
winsome  ways.  .  .  .  Only,  M.  Jean,  you   must  be 


60  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

off;  I  should  not  be  sure  of  tossing  my  omelette 
properly  if  you  stood  by.  .  .  .  And,  I  say,  be 
quick,  now,  and  fetch  a  bottle  of  Beaune  to  drink 
with  it ;  you  know  it  \s  necessary,  and  I  have  not 
time." 

Olive  was  quite  amused  by  Toinette's  informal 
manners  and  deeply  interested  by  her  culinary 
skill. 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  HeMene  hav- 
ing laid  the  cover  and  prepared  dessert  while 
Toinette  was  making  the  necessary  additions  to 
the  dinner,  they  were  all  seated  round  Madame 
Mold's  table  discussing  the  merits  of  the  omelette, 
and  Mrs.  Pearce  had  become  so  far  "Frenchified" 
by  this  time  that  she  told  Toinette  :  "  Je  vous  tieng 
pour  un  veritable  cordong  bloo  ;  "  at  which  Toinette 
courtesied  her  acknowledgments. 

They  separated  late  ;  and  witli  her  good-night 
Mrs.  Pearce  thanked  heartily  M.  Mole*  for  the 
charming  excursion  they  had  all  so  much  enjoyed. 
.  .  .  All  except  poor  Jean,  who  was  beginning  to 
think  lie  ought  to  wean  himself  in  future  from 
such  dangerous  pleasures. 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  61 


V. 


Events  soon  brought  Jean  a  very  good  excuse 
for  not  going  so  frequently  to  La  Saulaie  ;  but  per- 
haps he  was  not  very  thankful  for  it.  A  very  old 
friend  of  his,  a  young  engineer,  had  written  to 
say  that,  having  come  back  from  the  Cape,  and 
being  free  from  engagements  for  some  time,  he 
would  be  delighted  to  spend  a  few  days  with  Jean 
if  his  intended  visit  did  not  interfere  with  other 
plans. 

The  news  was  received  with  almost  equal 
pleasure  by  M.  and  Madame  Mole-,  for  Maxime 
Ledoyen  had  always  been  a  great  favorite  with 
them  both.  They  first  knew  him  when  his  widow- 
mother  brought  him  to  the  college  of  Champignol 
with  a  scholarship,  and  when  kind  M.  Mold  re- 
marked how  the  poor  boy  nestled  close  to  the 
lady  in  mourning  in  the  parlor,  rather  than  go 
and  amuse  himself  with  the  other  young  fellows 
during  recreation-time.  Then  when  the  bell  rang 
for  the  separation  the  child's  grief  culminated 
in  silent  agony;  he  clasped  his  mother's  hands 
desperately,    stilling    his    sobs,    and    she    had    to 


62  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

disengage  herself,  trembling  and  feeling  as  if  her 
heart  would  break. 

M.  Mold's  sympathy  was  gratefully  accepted  by 
the  poor  widow,  who  soon  told  him  all  her  trou- 
bles :  they  were  heavy.  She  was  the  wife  of  an 
employe  de  ministhre,  and  they  had  not  been  able 
to  economize  much,  for  they  were  obliged  to  live 
in  Paris,  where  everything  is  so  dear.  Her  hus- 
band died  before  he  had  a  right  to  a  pension,  and 
the  only  thing  she  had  asked  from  the  Government 
was  the  means  of  continuing  her  son's  education. 
The  request  had  been  granted  ;  but,  alas  !  Maxime 
was  sent  to  Champignol,  and  she  was  obliged  to 
live  in  Paris,  where  she  earned  enough  to  support 
herself  by  painting  on  porcelain.  Her  boy  had 
never  been  separated  from  her.  He  was  sensitive 
and  delicate,  and  used  to  work  at  home  under  his 
father's  supervision ;  he  followed  the  cours  of  the 
nearest  lycee.  And  now  he  had  come  to  a  strange 
place  among  unknown  people,  and  he  was  to  be 
left  without  a  friend  ! 

"No,  not  without  a  friend,"  replied  M.  Mold 
with  his  usual  kindness.  "  I  will  be  a  friend  and 
a  protector  to  him,  and  Jean,  my  son,  will  take 
his  part  against  the  other  boys  if  necessary."  In 
this  manner  he  contrived  to  soothe  the  fears  of 
Madame  Ledoyen  and  to  reconcile  her  to  the  in- 
evitable separation.  Meanwhile  he  invited  her 
and  Maxime  to  his  house,  and  the  two  boys  liked 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  63 

each  other  from  the  first,  although  the  difference 
in  age  and  disposition  was  very  great  indeed. 
Jean  was  then  a  little  over  ten  years  old,  and  al- 
ready as  tall  as  Maxime,  who  was  thirteen.  Jean 
was  strong,  merry,  and  very  ready  with  his  fists ; 
never  a  day  passed  without  his  having  fought  at 
least  a  few  rounds,  —  not  infrequently  with  his 
best  friends.  Maxime  was  weak  and  retiring, 
gentle  and  adverse  to  all  kinds  of  wrangling,  mel- 
ancholy and  quiet.  But  at  the  same  time  he  pos- 
sessed a  refinement  and  an  elegance  to  which  the 
younger  boy  was  not  insensible,  and  which  seemed 
to  set  him  up  over  the  others.  Then  he  came 
from  Paris,  it  was  a  sort  of  confraternity ;  and  at 
the  lycee  both  were  soon  called  "  les  Parisiens," 
and  they  were,  proud  of  it. 

Madame  Mold,  although  living  at  that  time  in 
close  retirement,  was  touched  by  the  sorrow  of 
another  mother,  and  consented  to  receive  her. 
Their  common  bereavement  and  sadness  drew 
them  together,  and  they  remained  fast  friends  for- 
ever after. 

The  means  of  Madame  Ledoyen  did  not  allow 
her  to  stay  long  at  Champignol ;  but  when  she  was 
obliged  to  leave,  it  was  not  with  the  feeling  of 
despair  that  she  had  dreaded :  her  son  would  be 
affectionately  watched  over  and  cared  for ;  lie 
would  spend  the  holidays  out  of  school.  His 
sensitive  heart  need  not  constantly  shrink  from 


64  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

the  cold,  indifferent  surroundings,  but  might  ex- 
pand into  love  and  gratitude.  "When  she  was 
gone,  a  regular  correspondence  was  established 
between  her  and  M.  Mold,  and  when  the  long  va- 
cations were  at  an  end,  and  she  brought  back 
Maxime  to  Champignol,  she  stayed  a  fortnight 
with  his  wife. 

The  friendship  grew  closer  and  closer  year  by 
year ;  Maxime's  intelligence  and  power  of  appli- 
cation surprised  and  interested  all  his  masters. 
His  will  was  concentrated  upon  one  goal,  and  his 
will  was  very  strong  ;  he  meant  to  work  as  hard 
as  he  could  bear,  to  be  fit  for  the  mining-school  as 
soon  as  possible.  Then  he  would  live  again  with 
his  mother  and  contrive  to  help  her. 

He  did  not  fail  in  the  programme  he  had  made 
for  himself,  and  when  a  student  at  the  mining- 
school  he  found  means  of  earning  sufficient  (by 
giving  lessons  to  less-advanced  pupils)  to  make 
his  mother's  life  and  his  own  comfortable.  From 
that  time  Madame  Ledoyen  gave  up  painting  for 
money,  and  the  small  income  she  received  from 
her  dowry,  securely  invested  in  ( rovernment  shares, 
together  with  the  price  of  Maxime's  lessons,  was 
turned  to  the  best  account  by  her  strict  economy 
and  clever  management. 

As  soon  as  Maxime  left  scl 1  be  was  appointed 

to  a  lucrative  post  on  the  warm  recommendation 
of  his  professors,  and  care  and  anxiety  were  ban- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  65 

ished  from  his  mother's  house.  They  took  nice 
rooms  (rather  high)  in  one  of  the  boulevards. 
Maxime  had  a  simple  but  convenient  cabinet  for 
his  work,  and  he  was  able  to  give  his  mother  the 
long-deferred  luxury  of  a  maid-servant ;  hitherto 
she  had  managed  with  the  help  of  the  concierge 
and  an  occasional  charwoman. 

How  delighted  were  mother  and  son  to  enter- 
tain  Jean  from  time  to  time  when  he  came  to 
Paris,  and  what  a  fete  when  M.  Mold  and  Helene 
visited  them  a  little  later  ! 

Since  then  Maxime  had  undertaken  several  long 
journeys  and  voyages  :  the  last  had  been  to  the 
Cape,  and  he  was  still  absent  when  Jean  came 
from  England ;  but  now,  after  a  short  taste  of 
home,  he  longed  to  be  with  his  friends  again. 

Jean  having  scolded  him  for  writing  instead  of 
coming  directly,  he  was  at  Champignol  two  days 
afterwards,  and  very  much  amused  by  the  ex- 
clamations upon  his  altered  appearance.  "  How 
much  grown  ! "  said  M.  Mole' ;  "  you  seem  to  have 
gained  as  much  in  strength  as  in  height !  "  Still 
Maxime  hardly  reached  M.  Mold's  shoulder. 

"  And  what  a  fine  color ! "  added  Jean  ;  "  as  black 
as  Othello !  .  .  .  He  is  glorious  !  I  must  paint 
his  portrait." 

"  Nay !  .  .  ."  Toinette  put  in  indignantly,  after 
courtesy  ing  to  Maxime;  "I  am  sure  Monsieur 
Maxime  would    rather    wait    till  his   skin  grows 


66  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

clear  again.  And  it  will  when  this  has  peeled 
off,  for  I  do  not  remember  a  fairer-skinned  boy 
than  he  was  formerly,  —  though  with  as  much 
color  as  an  egg-shell,  I  must  say." 

"  So  you  recognize  me  still,  Madame  Toinette  ? " 
said  Maxime  in  his  low,  harmonious  voice.  "  It 's 
very  kind  of  you,  and  I  have  not  forgotten  you 
either,  as  you  will  see.  I  have  brought  you  a  lit- 
tle souvenir  from  Japan,  —  a  pair  of  long  silver 
pins  for  your  coiffc." 

"  Oh !  it 's  really  too  kind  of  you,  Monsieur 
Maxime,  to  have  thought  of  your  old  Toinette 
when  you  were  in  such  outlandish  places  !  .  .  . 
But  you  and  Monsieur  Jean  are  just  twins  for 
kind-heartedness,  —  though  I  never  saw  you  laugh 
at  one  as  he  does."  Feeling  her  eyes  somewhat 
moist,  Toinette  wiped  them  vigorously  with  the 
corner  of  her  blue  apron  as  she  retreated  to  her 
domain. 

At  the  same  moment  Ildlene  was  coming  for- 
wards with  both  hands  extended  to  meet  Max- 
ime's  ;  pleasure  frankly  beamed  out  of  her  eyes, 
and  her  voice,  though  firm,  was  soft  and  almost 
tender  when  she  said  :  "  It  seems  an  age  since  wo 
saw  you  last ;  but  we  knew  that  you  were  well  and 
satisfied,  and  that  made  us  wait  more  patiently 
lor  your  return." 

The  sound  of  her  voice  alter  an  absence  always 
moved  him  so  deeply  that  his  own  became  slightly 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  67 

tremulous,  iu  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  steady  it, 
when  he  answered :  "  But  I  did  not,  could  not 
wait  patiently.  I  had  to  bear  the  separation  from 
all  that  I  loved,  and  of  course  I  bore  it,  —  but  not 
patiently." 

"Naturally  the  pain  is  greater  for  the  one  who 
goes  away  alone,  among  strange  faces  and  strange 
scenes,  than  it  is  for  those  who  remain  with  their 
friends,  in  the  midst  of  old  associations  and  cus- 
toms. Still,  I  think  your  mother  was  hardly 
more  patient  than  yourself,  —  how  happy  she 
must  be  now  ! " 

"  But  see  how  little  exacting  she  is  !  She  almost 
sent  me  here,  so  soon  after  my  return.  .  .  .  She 
knew  that  I  longed  to  see  you  all  again." 

"  Madame  Ledoyen  knows  how  to  love,"  replied 
M.  Mole' :  "  she  promotes  the  happiness  of  those 
dear  to  her,  even  at  the  cost  of  self-sacrifice ;  and 
that  is  the  best  way." 

Soon  Madame  Mold  came  back  from  Mass, 
which  she  attended  every  morning;  and  when  her 
greeting  was  over  she  requested  Maxime  to  give 
an  account  of  his  voyages.  It  was  an  opportunity 
for  offering  some  valuable  Japanese  bronzes  and 
Chinese  vases  which  he  had  picked  up  at  very 
little  cost,  he  said,  in  his  wanderings.  As  he  went 
about  a  great  deal  during  the  six  months  of  his 
stay,  eager  to  see  and  learn  as  much  as  possible, 
he  had  met  with  capital  bargains,  and  had  brought 


68  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

enough  to  begin  a  small  museum.  If  things  went 
on  well,  he  hoped  to  keep  the  whole  of  his  pur- 
chases ;  if  not,  as  the  selection  had  been  carefully 
made,  he  would  be  able  to  realize  a  good  profit  out 
of  the  sale,  and  the  money  would  have  been  well 
invested. 

M.  Mole"  (as  Maximo,  who  knew  him  well,  had 
foreseen)  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  increas- 
ing the  importance  of  his  musee  by  the  addition 
of  some  curious  specimens  of  Chinese  and  Japa- 
nese art.  Pearce  was  astounded  when  he  heard  a 
man  in  M.  Mold's  situation  talk  of  giving  away 
such  valuable  property ;  he  even  remonstrated,  and 
said  that  the  objects  might  be  lent,  on  condition 
of  their  being  returned  after  a  certain  time. 

"No,"  said  M.  Mold  with  his  usual  calm  sim- 
plicity, "I  do  not  wish  them  to  be  returned, 
even  to  my  children  ;  for  them  I  do  what  I  ought. 
But  there  are  other  duties  than  paternal  duties. 
I  owe  something  to  Champignol,  my  native  place, 
and  I  am  happy  to  contribute  to  raising  it  ever 
so  little  above  its  present  level.  And  I  owe  an 
example  to  my  fellow-citizens;  I  should  be  almost 
ashamed  to  be  always  asking  for  gifts  from  others, 
were  I  not  ready  to  sacrifice  something  to  general 
culture." 

When  Pearce  told  this  to  his  mother  she 
answered  that  she  really  could  not  make  out  what 
M.    Mold's   pecuniary  position   might  be.     From 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  G9 

his  exceedingly  simple  habits,  from  the  absence  of 
luxury  in  his  house,  she  thought  he  barely  made 
both  ends  meet ;  and  yet  she  had  heard  that  he 
had  given  away  at  least  five  thousand  pounds  to 
the  town,  —  part  of  it  in  subscriptions  for  found- 
ing a  hospital  and  for  repairs  to  the  cathedral 
and  for  the  musec,  "  Why,"  she  continued,  "  one 
would  think  that  if  he  can  throw  away  five 
thousand  pounds,  lie  could  at  least  keep  a  maid 
besides  Toinette.  With  five  thousand  pounds  he 
could  pay  a  maid's  wages,  and  even  two,  for  a 
great  many  years.  And  then  how  much  more 
comfortable  it  would  be  for  Hedene  if  she  were  rid 
of  menial  work,  how  much  more  kongvenable !  .  .  . 
Perhaps  you  don't  know  it,  Henry,  but  one  morn- 
ing that  I  went  very  early  with  Olive  and  asked  to 
see  Hedene,  Toinette  took  us  without  more  ado  to 
the  drawing-room,  where  we  found  the  daughter 
of  the  house  actually  dusting  the  furniture,  .  .  . 
and  I  have  no  doubt  she  had  swept  the  floor  too!" 
"  Oh !  she  does  not  feel  ashamed  of  it,  or  wish 
to  disguise  the  fact,"  answered  Olive;  "she  told 
me  herself  that  she  always  tidies  her  own  room 
and  the  salon,  and  that  she  often  cooks  and  irons. 
I  fancy  she  is  rather  fond  of  household  work,  she 
•  lues  it  so  cheerfully  and  neatly.  How  pretty  she 
looked  that  very  morning  in  her  pink  cotton  pei- 
gnoir, with  her  beautiful  hair  rippling  unbound  in 
a  silk  net!     Do  you  remember,  Aunt  ?" 


70  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Pearce,  watching  her  son, 
"  it  looks  very  pretty,  and  I  daresay  very  proper, 
in  France ;  but  think  what  would  be  the  impression 
experienced  by  any  friend  of  your  cousin  if  he 
found  you  or  me  dusting  or  sweeping  the  drawing- 
room  when  he  called;" 

"  I  know  he  would  be  terribly  shocked," 
laughed  Olive.  "  And  still,"  she  continued  more 
seriously,  "  it 's  very  likely  that  I  shall  have  to 
do  a  great  part  of  my  house-work  whenever  I 
have  a  house  of  my  own  ;  but  I  know  that  my 
duty  towards  polite  society  will  compel  me  to  talk 
and  look  as  if  I  were  far  above  it.  Don't  you 
think,  Henry,  that,  after  all,  those  pretences  at 
gentility  are  very  mean,  and  that  it  is  some- 
what hard  that  we  should  be  considered  as  la- 
dies only  on  condition  of  remaining  idle  and 
useless  ?  .  .  .  " 

"  Ladies  are  allowed  any  amount  of  intellectual 
work  by  society,"  replied  Pearce  sarcastically ; 
"  neither  are  they  forbidden  artistic  pursuits,  and, 
generally  speaking,  these  occupations  seem  quite 
suflicient." 

"  You  speak  now  of  rich  ladies ;  but  I  want  your 
opinion  about  ladies  without  fortunes." 

"They  must  strive  to  keep  themselves  by  prac- 
tising some  kind  of  art,  I  should  say,  or  by  teach- 
ing; it  would  be  far  better  than  becoming  a 
drudge." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  71 

"But  one  need  not  be  a  drudge,  for  all  that! 
Look  at  Helene,  now,  —  would  you  call  her  a 
drudge  ? " 

Pearce  looked  seriously  annoyed.  "  Certainly 
not,"  he  answered  at  last,  feeling  his  mother's  eye 
upon  him ;  "  but  I  do  think  it  a  matter  for 
regret  that  her  kind  of  life  should  not  tend  to 
develop  what  is  highest  in  her." 

"  Still,  I  can't  help  believing,"  pursued  Olive 
rather  dreamily,  and  as  if  she  spoke  to  herself, 
"  that  a  woman  is  fulfilling  one  of  her  most  impor- 
tant vocations  when  she  makes  life  pleasanter  to 
those  she  loves,  by  her  thoughtful  care  and  exer- 
tions." She  felt  that  she  blushed  crimson  at  the 
recollection  of  Jean  having  said  to  her  once:  "  Do 
you  think  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  be  a  learned 
woman  to  make  others  happy  ? "  ...  She  had  paid 
little  attention  to  the  question  when  it  was  asked  ; 
but  now,  all  of  a  sudden,  she  heard  the  tender 
tone,  she  saw  the  eager  look  coupled  with  it, 
then  the  inexplicable  sadness  following  the  an- 
swer that  her  memory  could  not  give  back.  And 
since  then  the  long  intervals  between  his  calls, — 
did  it  mean  anything  ?  .  .  .  was  he  angry,  or 
grieved  ?  He  was  no  doubt  a  little  more  ceremo- 
nious than  before,  a  little  more  formal,  —  hardly  a 
shade;  and  yet  she  was  aware  of  a  change. 

Fearce  had  seen  the  blush,  but  attributed  it 
to  the  excitement  of  controversy.    Hitherto,  Olive 


72  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

had  always  accepted  his  opinions  humbly,  as  the 
best  that  could  possibly  be ;  and  now  she  expressed 
opinions  of  her  own,  and  opposed  to  his !  He  was 
very  much  irritated.  "  It's  woman's  most  impor- 
tant vocation,  undoubtedly,  when  she  is  incapable 
of  anything  else,"  he  replied  with  the  usual  sar- 
castic ring  of  voice  which  he  used  when  he  met 
with  opposition. 

Why  did  Olive  think  it  for  the  first  time  irri- 
tating and  disagreeable  ?  She  did  not  remain 
crushed  by  her  cousin's  sarcasm,  however,  as  he 
seemed  fully  to  expect,  but  answered  with  a  light 
laugh  :  "  You  don't  always  act  up  to  your  theories, 
then,  for  you  seemed  to  appreciate  Hedene's  mean 
domestic  talents  on  the  night  of  our  drive  to  the 
chateau,  when  she  provided  that  excellent  dinner 
in  no  time  with  so  little  fuss.  For  my  part,  I 
thought  we  were  all  enjoying  ourselves.  How  pleas- 
ant was  the  absence  of  all  ceremony  in  that  kind 
of  French  life  which  allows  you  to  invite  your 
friends  at  a  moment's  notice  !  They  may  accept 
with  pleasure,  knowing  that  they  will  not  cause 
either  much  trouble  or  expense;  and  the  hosts,  on 
their  part,  are  not  prevented  from  enjoying  their 
friends'  society  by  elaborate  preparations." 

"  Still,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Pearce,  "  it 's  rather  a 
nasty  custom  that  they  have  of  not  changing  one's 
knife  and  fork  as  they  change  the  dishes.  I  can't 
be    reconciled    to  it;  every  time  I  lay  them  up- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  73 

on  my  plate,  as  many  times  are  they  carefully 
replaced  on  the  table." 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  much  mind,  as  they  change  them 
after  fish  always,  and  have  dessert-covers ;  but  I 
hope,  Aunt,  that  this  inconvenience  will  not  pre- 
vent you  from  coming  to  France  again,  like  a  gen- 
tleman of  M.  Jean's  acquaintance,  who  told  him 
he  had  been  only  once  in  Paris,  and  although  very 
much  interested  by  what  he  had  seen,  would  never 
go  again,  because  he  could  not  help  himself  either 
to  salt  or  pepper,  there  being  neither  salt  nor 
pepper  spoons  at  his  hotel." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  think  it 's  high  time  I  should 
remove  you  to  England,"  answered  her  Aunt  with 
a  smile  and  a  shake  of  her  head  ;  "  you  are  grow- 
ing sadly  Frenchified  in  your  tastes  and  notions." 

"  Perhaps  she  intends  writing  a  book  in  praise 
of  the  patriarchal  simplicity  of  the  French  'petite 
bourgeoisie;  if  it  equals  the  lecture  on  English 
snobbishness  that  she  has  just  delivered,  there  is 
no  telling  but  she  may  become  quite  celebrated 
some  day,"  remarked  Pearce,  still  sardonic. 

"  Then  I  shall  dare  to  invite  you  to  my  conver- 
sazioni, and  you  will  deign  to  acknowledge  me 
as  youiv  cousin,  perhaps?  ..."  replied  Olive, 
nothing  daunted. 

Mrs.  Pearce  was  quite  as  much  astonished  as 
her  son  at  her  niece's  rebellious  spirit.  It  made 
her  uncomfortable ;    and  she  said  with  a  little  irri- 


74  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

tation :  "  Now  what  is  the  matter  with  you  Loth  ? 
.  .  .  Perhaps,  Henry,  you  are  somewhat  too  severe 
at  times.  But,  Olive,  you  should  remember  that  it 
is  for  your  good ;  and  being  a  mere  child  yet,  it 
is  your  duty  to  submit  to  his  superior  wisdom." 

This    was  what  she   had   been   accustomed   to 
hear  since  she  lived  with  her  aunt,  and  to  believe. 
Mrs.  Pearce  had  the  most  profound  respect  for 
her   son's   learning,  achievements,  and  opinions ; 
and  this  respect  had  developed  into  uncontrolled 
admiration  in  the  girl.     Her  cousin  was  invited 
by  the  most   celebrated   artists   of  the   day  and 
knew   the    greatest    writers ;    his    verdicts    were 
quoted  in  influential  reviews,  and  American  news- 
paper correspondents  had  sought  him  out  to  have 
his  impressions  of  the  pictures  for  the  next  Acad- 
emy exhibition.     This  was  more  than  enough  to 
dazzle  a  girl  of  seventeen  ;  and  Olive  meekly  hum- 
bled herself  and,  like  her  aunt,  worshipped   the 
superior  man,  —  even  believed  that  she  loved  him. 
And  she  had  tried,  ashamed  of  her  inferiority,  to 
reach  a  higher  level ;  she  had  worked  hard,  in  spile 
of  languor  and  headaches,  in  order  to  please  her 
cousin,  who  wanted  her  to  go  to  Grirton.     But  her 
efforts  had   not  disarmed  his  severity;    lie    never 
had  a  word  of  encouragement  to  help  her  on;  he 
scorned   her   failures   and   accused  her  of  levity. 
"It  was   for  her  good,"   she   had   been   taught    to 
think  by  her  aunt.      But  for  some  time  past  her 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  (5 

faith  in  Pearce's  perfections  had  been  repeatedly 
shaken.  She  had  discovered  that  superior  men 
were  not  always  harsh  to  their  womankind,  how- 
ever beneath  their  mental  level  they  might  be. 
M.  Mole",  for  instance,  —  what  benignant,  tender 
ways  he  had  with  women  in  general,  and  with  his 
wife  and  daughter  in  particular;  how  kindly  he 
overlooked  her  aunt's  mistakes:  still,  neither  Ma- 
dame Mold  nor  Mrs.  Pearce  could  be  said  to  pos- 
sess remarkable  intellects  or  acquirements.  She  had 
noticed,  also,  that  when  he  talked  with  people  of 
the  lower  class  he  was  just  as  considerate  as  with 
his  equals.  He  did  not  look  supercilious  or  bored 
by  their  simple  talk,  but  gave  his  unfeigned  atten- 
tion and  interest  to  what  they  had  to  say;  while 
Pearce  never  troubled  himself  to  keep  up  a  subject 
which  did  not  interest  him  in  particular.  And 
Jeau,  whenever  he  spoke  to  his  sister,  did  not 
take  patronizing  airs  with  her,  although  every  one 
seemed  to  think  that  he  would  become  a  great 
artist.  And  with  herself,  now  that  she  thought  of 
it,  he  was  just  as  talkative  as  with  his  sister, —  not 
quite  so  free,  and  with  a  shade  of  respect  which 
could  but  flatter.  Decidedly,  it  must  be  more  agree- 
able to  live  between  M.  Mole*  and  Jean  than  with 
her  cousin,  although  they  were  not  related  to  her. 
With  them  she  was  not  afraid  of  remaining  under 
what  was  expected;  she  might  be  herself,  and 
liked  as  she  was. 


76  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 


VI. 


The  arrival  of  Maxime  was  a  serious  cause  of 
vexation  to  Pearce  in  different  ways :  Jean  did 
not  give  him  so  much  of  his  time ;  M.  and  Ma- 
dame Mote,  and  even  Hdlene,  seemed  to  take  as 
much  interest  in  what  the  young  engineer  told 
them  of  his  voyages  and  adventures  as  they  did  in 
Pearce's  more  refined  conversation.  But  what  hurt 
him  most  was  to  hear  Helene  and  Maxime  call 
each  other  by  their  Christian  names,  without  the 
formal  monsieur  and  mademoiselle.  Could  they  be 
engaged  ?  .  .  .  What  a  stupid  supposition  !  .  .  . 
How  could  such  a  girl,  fit  to  be  a  duchess,  fall  in 
love  with  a  nobody?  .  .  .  They  seemed  to  make 
much  of  him  in  the  Mole  family.  He  could  not 
account  for  it;  he  saw  nothing  remarkable  in  M. 
Ledoyen.  Perhaps  the  girl  would  lie  sacrificed  be- 
fore she  knew  her  own  mind,  according  t<>  French 
custom  ;  what  a  pity  !  .  .  .  He  had  no  doubt  about 
Maxime's  love;  his  jealousy  had  quickly  bus- 
pected,  and  then  detected  it.  So  far,  he  was  not 
much  troubled,  he  was  so  sure  of  his  superior  ad- 
vantages.    Helene  had  only  to  look  at  them  both 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  77 

to  see  the  difference.  Pearce  was  tall,  strong, 
handsome,  and  of  proud  hearing ;  he  was  con- 
scious of  all  these  gifts,  which  he  studiously 
enhanced  hy  aristocratic  manners.  Maxime  was 
delicate-looking,  pale,  and  reserved ;  there  was 
absolutely  nothing  striking  about  him.  In  spite 
of  this  reassuring  conclusion,  Pearce  made  up  his 
mind  to  ascertain,  through  Jean,  if  there  was  any- 
thing in  his  suspicions. 

So  one  morning  he  went  early  to  M.  Mold's  to 
find  his  friend  before  he  had  gone  out  to  study 
from  nature.  His  plan  was  to  go  with  Jean,  to 
lead  the  talk  naturally  to  Maxime  and  his  pros- 
pects, and  to  learn  as  much  as  possible  of  what 
interested  him. 

He  arrived  at  eight  o'clock,  and  was  told  that 
the  family  were  breakfasting ;  being  now  very 
intimate,  he  was  shown  into  the  dining-room.  A 
great  surprise  awaited  him  there,  which  imme- 
diately turned  the  current  of  his  jealousy  into  a 
new  channel. 

By  the  side  of  Helene,  who  was  acting  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house  while  her  mother  heard  Mass,  sat 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Civray  de  Champignol !  .  .  . 
There  he  was,  receiving  from  her  hand  his  cup  of 
coffee,  and  putting  it  down  again  on  the  oil- 
cloth of  the  table,  with  as  little  concern  as  if  he 
had  never  been  accustomed  to  a  more  luxurious 
service.     Pearce  was  astounded. 


78  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

M.  Mold,  begging  his  guest's  pardon,  rose  from 
the  table  to  shake  hands  with  the  new-comer, 
while  the  other  persons  bowed  to  him;  then  after 
inquiring  if  he  had  breakfasted,  and  receiving  an 
affirmative  answer,  the  master  of  the  house  re- 
sumed his  seat,  and  the  simple  meal  went  on 
precisely  as  usual.  Pearce  remarked  that  nothing 
had  been  added  to  it;  there  was  nothing  on  the 
table  besides  the  bowls  of  milk,  the  coffee-pot,  the 
fresh  butter  and  petits  pains. 

It  appeared  that  the  Marquis  had  come  early  to 
town  to  consult  M.  Mole"  about  private  affairs,  and 
had  taken  breakfast  with  the  family,  as  was  his 
custom  in  such  occurrences.  Nobody  thought  it 
strange,  not  even  Maxime,  who  knew  it  of  old.  15ut 
it  struck  Pearce  as  unnatural ;  he  was  aware  at 
the  same  time  of  the  close  observation  bestowed 
by  the  Marquis  upon  his  person,  and  lie  could  not 
help  a  feeling  of  uneasiness  and  vexation. 

It  is  an  awkward  position  to  be  in  a  dining- 
room  isolated  from  the  table  where  others  are  tak- 
ing their  meal,  and  to  feel  that  you  are  the  centre 
of  all  eyes  and  have  nothing  better  to  do  than 
twirl  your  hat  in  your  hand  or  read  your  initials 
inside  Train's  trial  was,  however,  short,  the 
first  breakfast  being  quickly  over  in  Trance.  Still, 
he  had  time  to  observe  with  what  extreme  defer- 
ence tiie  Marquis  acknowledged  every  little  atten- 
tion of  his  young  hostess;  his  politeness  towards 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  79 

women  retained  something  of  the  old  courtly  man- 
ners of  his  race.  His  bows  were  neither  abrupt 
nor  hurried,  like  those  in  fashion,  and  when  he 
took  the  hand  of  a  lady  he  never  shook  it,  but 
merely  pressed  the  finger-tips  and  bent  over  it 
with  peculiar  haughty  grace,  as  if  returning  thanks 
for  a  slight  favor.  Pearce  thought  that  there  was 
in  his  look  an  expression  of  melancholy  and  stern- 
ness which  forcibly  recalled  Philip  the  Second  of 
Spain. 

Breakfast  ended,  the  Marquis  begged  Helene  to 
play  for  him,  if  she  were  at  liberty,  after  lie  had 
had  his  consultation  with  her  father.  She  an- 
swered that  she  would  do  it  with  pleasure,  espe- 
cially because  Maxime  had  brought  his  violin,  and 
they  had  lately  been  practising  some  fine  duets ; 
then  they  separated. 

"Does  it  not  seem  like  old  times,"  Helene 
asked  of  Maxime  after  they  had  left  the  dining- 
room  and  were  walking  in  the  garden,  with  Pearce 
and  Jean,  "  to  see  the  Marquis  drop  in  unexpect- 
edly to  breakfast  and  to  hear  him  ask  for  music  ? 
.  .  .  We  have  not  seen  much  of  him  for  a  long 
time  past." 

"  I  feel  almost  a  schoolboy  again.  But  he  looks 
worn;  is  he  not  better?"  asked  Maxime  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  He  is  not  worse,"  answered  Helene  in  the 
same  tone;  "  but  Papa  says  that  the  consciousness 


80  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

of  his  state  is  so  distressing  to  him  as  to  be  nearly 
unendurable  at  times.  ...  It  is  very  sad." 

"  Your  father  has  a  very  beneficent  influ- 
ence over  him,"  continued  Maxim e  ;  "  he  generally 
seemed  cheered  by  his  visits." 

"  Yes  ;  but  life  at  the  chateau  is  terribly  depress- 
ing. He  does  not  invite  company,  because  of  his 
brother  and  sisters ;  and  now  .  .  .  since  his  mal- 
ady, he  has  given  up  travelling  and  visiting.  .  .  . 
Excuse  me  for  a  moment;  1  want  to  put  the  flow- 
ers his  sister  sent  me  in  the  drawing-room  vases 
before  he  comes  down." 

Hdlene  left  the  young  men  to  their  talk  and 
cigarettes,  and  went  to  make  bouquets  of  the  splen- 
did roses  and  delicate  grasses  brought  by  the  visi- 
tor. She  had  just  finished,  and  placed  the  slender 
crystal  cornets  on  the  chimney-piece,  when  M. 
Mold  entered  with  the  Marquis. 

"Oh,  Papa,  conn >,  and  admire !"  exclaimed  Hd- 
lene.  "I  think  I  never  saw  so  many  varieties  of 
roses  before,  and  such  lovely  ones  !  Please,  Mon- 
sieur, to  offer  my  grateful  thanks  to  Mademoiselle 
Irene  for  her  present.  I  will  make  several  studies 
from  it." 

"They  are  magnificent  roses!"  said  M.  Mold; 
"I  must  call  -lean  to  look  at  them,"  and  lie  went 
out  into  the  garden  in  search  of  his  son. 

"  I  am  happy  to  see  thai  the  flowers  please  you," 
said    the    Mar<|uis    to    lldlene;    "but    their    own 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCKITY.  81 

beauty  would  be  but  little  without  the  skill  and 
taste  of  your  arrangement.  I  thought  nothing  of 
them  before  your  hands  had  lent  their  grace ;  but 
now  I  shall  leave  them  reluctantly." 

Before  Helene  had  time  to  make  an  answer,  the 
three  young  men  reappeared,  marshalled  by  M. 
Mole*,  and  were  called  upon  to  admire  the  flowers, 
which  they  did  unanimously ;  but  Pearce  had  not 
failed  to  notice  the  heightened  color  of  Hellene's 
brow  and  the  close  proximity  of  the  Marquis. 

"  What  shall  we  play  ? "  asked  Helene,  address- 
ing herself  to  Maxime. 

"  I  think  I  remember  that  M.  de  Civray  likes 
classical  music ;  we  might  play  Beethoven's  Sep- 
tuor." 

"  Yes,  you  are  right ;  I  don't  think  I  appreciate 
any  music  above  Beethoven's,"  replied  the  Mar- 
quis, who  sat  a  little  beyond  the  piano,  so  as  to 
have  a  good  view  of  the  performer.  M.  Mold  and 
Pearce  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  room. 

He'lene  and  Maxime  played  remarkably  well 
together.  They  understood  music  with  one  soul, 
as  it  were,  and  gave  it  expression  as  with  one  in- 
strument. Marmontel,  who  gave  lessons  to  Helene 
when  she  was  in  Paris,  had  taught  her  a  thorough 
honesty  in  the  interpretation  of  the  masters,  the 
disinterestedness  of  a  subdued  accompaniment 
when  the  violin  had  to  sing,  and  the  clearness 
and  maestvia  of  the  allegros. 

6 


82  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

Under  the  influence  of  the  music  he  so  much 
loved,  the  countenance  of  the  Marquis  visibly 
altered  ;  the  sadness  of  his  face  deepened  and  soft- 
ened at  the  same  time.  He  rested  his  head  in 
his  hand  and  closed  his  eyes  to  concentrate  the 
whole  of  his  sensations  in  hearing. 

When  the  last  note  of  the  Septuor  had  died 
away  he  sighed,  and  slowly  opening  his  eyes,  saw 
Pearce  standing  by  Hdleue  and  complimenting  her 
with  well  imitated  enthusiasm. 

"  I  declare  you  are  quite  an  artist,  quite !  .  .  . 
I  had  no  notion  you  possessed  so  many  talents ; 
you  never  played  to  us  till  to-day." 

"  Oh  ! "  answered  Maxime,  "  we  play  occasion- 
ally, but  wc  practise  hard  every  day ;  and  if  we 
had  more  time  together,  I  daresay  we  should  be 
able  by  and  by  to  play  creditably.  .  .  .  Really, 
Hdlene,  you  have  made  remarkable  progress  for 
the  last  two  years." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  answered 
Helene,  with  real  pleasure,  "because  you  are  no 
flatterer,  and  because  you  are  not  easily  satisfied. 
How  do  you  manage,  not  only  to  keep  up,  but  to 
improve  your  play,  in  spite  of  your  long  voyages  ?" 

"I  always  take  my  violin  with  me.  I  think 
I  could  hardly  live  without  it;  it  is  my  consola- 
tion in  solitude  and  the  conjurer  of  sweet  dreams 
and  remembrances  :  it  is  the  conlidantof  my  hopes 
ami  fears/' 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  83 

"It  might  turn  out  an  indiscreet  confidant," 
remarked  Pearce,  pointedly,  "it  is  so  eloquent," 
He  was  rather  vexed  Ly  this  talent  of  Maxime, 
which  Hedene  seemed  to  appreciate  so  highly. 

"  But  it  only  says  what  I  wish  it  to  say ;  and 
after  all,  it's  only  a  translation." 

"  My  little  finger  told  me  that  there  were  some- 
times found  in  your  cabinet,  among  plans  and 
maps,  sheets  of  manuscript  music  too  full  of  era- 
sures to  be  copies,"  said  Helune  with  a  winning 
smile. 

"  I  humbly  beg  the  little  finger  to  spare  my 
weakness,  then;  most  of  us  have  sins  on  our  con- 
science." 

Here  the  Marquis  asked  for  a  song,  and  was 
joined  in  the  request  by  Pearce  and  Jean.  Helene 
sano-  Lamartine's  "  Chant  d' Amour." 


o 


Que  nos  regards  charmes  se  suivent,  se  prolongent, 
Comme  deux  purs  rayons  l'un  dans  l'autre  se  plongent, 

Et  portent  tour  a  tour 
Dans  le  cceur  l'un  de  l'autre  une  tremblante  flatnme; 
Ce  jour  interieur  que  donne  seul  a  Fame 

Le  regard  tic  L'amour. 

"  Un  jour  tes  yenx  voiles  d'un  nnage  de  larmes, 
De  ces  temps  ecoules  qui  t'ont  ravi  tes  charmes, 

Pleureront  la  rigueur  ; 
Quand  dans  ton  souvenir,  dans  I'onde  dn  rivage, 
Tu  chercheraa  eD  vain  ta  ravissante  image, 

Regarde  dans  mon  cceur. 


84  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Et  quand  la  mort  viendra,  d'un  autre  amour  suivie, 
Etoindre  en  souriant  de  nut  re  double  vie 

L'un  et  l'autre  flambeau, 
Qu'clle  etende  ma  couche  a  cote  de  la  tiennc, 
Et  que  ta  main  fidele  embrasse  encore  la  mienne 

Dans  la  nuit  du  tombeau." 

The  profound  pathos  of  the  poetry  was  en- 
hanced by  the  mellowness  of  the  well-controlled 
voice,  and  all  the  listeners  were  moved  when  the 
melody  died  with  the  last  words  :  — 

"  Et  que  ta  main  fidele  embrasse  encore  la  mienne 
Dans  la  nuit  du  tombeau  ;  " 

so  that  a  pause  of  silence  almost  solemn  ensued. 
It  was  broken  by  Jean,  who  came  behind  his  sister 
and  bent  her  head  a  little  backwards  to  give  her  a 
kiss  on  the  forehead,  saying  at  the  same  time:  "I 
don't  mind  telling  you  again,  HfTene,  that  your 
voice  is  the  voice  I  like  best  in  the  world ;  it  so 
well  expresses  what  one  feels!  " 

"  You  choose  your  songs  so  well  too,"  said 
Pearce. 

"  Oh!  T  can't  bear  to  sing  stupid  words,  however 
beautiful  the  music  may  be;  even  meaningless 
poetry  spoils  music,  I  think." 

"It  really  does  for  any  intelligent  being,"  as 
sented  M.  Mote. 

The  Marquis  now  mse,  thanked  Hdlene  for  the 
pleasure  she  hud  given  him,  and  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  come  and  listen  sometimes  while  she 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  85 

practised  with   Maxiine;  but  Helene  was  by  no 
means  in  favor  of  the  idea. 

"  It  would  be  very  tiresome  for  you,  Monsieur, 
as  I  am  often  found  fault  with,  and  have  to  re- 
peat the  same  passage  over  and  over  again,  till 
Maxime  is  satisfied." 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  I  am  forbidden  to 
come,  then  ? "  asked  the  Marquis,  without  the 
shadow  of  a  smile. 

"  By  no  means ! "  answered  Hdlene,  afraid  of 
having  wounded  him ;  "  we  shall  always  be  very 
proud  to  play  for  so  appreciative  a  listener.  But 
I  could  not  bear  any  one  to  see  how  I  am  tyran- 
nized over  when  I  practise."  Then  she  bowed,  in 
the  hope  of  cutting  the  parting  as  short  as  possi- 
ble ;  but  he  held  out  his  hand  and  she  had  to  give 
him  hers,  and  she  fancied  that  he  held  it  longer 
and  pressed  it  more  softly  than  he  had  ever  done 
before. 

Pearce  was  no  judge  of  music,  although  he  was 
rather  fond  of  it  in  a  general  way  ;  but  he  did  nut 
like  the  idea  of  appearing  inferior  to  Maxime  or 
to  M.  de  Civray  in  Helene's  eyes,  and  in  order 
to  show  that  he  was  not  incompetent,  he  praised 
her  style  and  asked  where  she  had  funned  it.  She 
explained  to  him  that  she  went  to  Paris  every 
year  with  her  father  (her  mother  going  into  a  con- 
vent for  a  religious  retreat  during  their  abseni 
that  they  attended  the  best  concerts,  "  Pasdeloup," 


86  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Colonne,"  "  Trocadero,"  "  Conservatoire,"  and  that 
she  also  took  lessons  from  Marmontel. 

"  I  see  clearly  through  it  all  now,"  said  Tearce 
gallantly ;  "  you  are  no  more  a  demoiselle  de province 
than  Peau-d'ane  was  a  shepherdess." 

"  You  are  mistaken  there.  I  am  of  the  country ; 
I  belong  to  it,  and  I  like  it.  Yes,  I  like  the  long 
leisure  hours  which  can  be  devoted  to  study  or 
healthy  recreation;  I  like  the  simplicity  of  its 
customs,  the  reliableness  of  its  friendships,  and 
I  think  I  could  hardly  become  a  real  Parisian 
again." 

"  Still,  you  are  fit  for  the  more  enlightened, 
larger  life  of  a  metropolis  ;  you  must  suffer  some- 
times from  the  want  of  intellectual  society." 

"  Not  so  long  as  I  have  my  father  and  my  books. 
I  don't  pretend  to  say  that  I  should  not  regret  our 
yearly  visits  to  Paris  if  I  had  to  give  them  up ;  but 
as  it  is,  I  am  perfectly  contented." 

"Have  you  no  wish  to  see  London,  then  ?" 

"Oh,  yes !  a  very  strong  wisli  indeed;  .  .  .  but 
as  it  is  not  to  be  thought  of,  1  dismiss  it  from  my 
mind." 

Pearce's  notion  was  not  that  this  thought  should 
be  dismissed  from  her  mind,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
that  it  should  be  encouraged,  considered,  and 
at  last  carried  out.  He  saw  plainly  that  he  had 
two  rivals:  one,  the  Marquis,  might  be  formida- 
ble, with  all  the  prestige  conferred  by  rank   and 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  87 

wealth ;  the  other  had  on  his  side  old  associations, 
familiar  intercourse,  and  perhaps  the   weight   of 
previous   paternal   agreement.     He    himself   was 
deprived  of  his  arms  for  the  combat.     Hedene  no 
doubt  had  been  told  of  his  celebrity,  but  she  saw 
no   sign   of  it   here.     Celebrity  cannot  be   worn 
at  the  button-hole  like  a  decoration ;  it  can't  be 
printed  upon  one's  card  like  a  title  ;  it  does  not 
surround  you  with  luxury  like  wealth:  still,  it  is 
no  less  a  power  than  rank  and  fortune.    It  is  a  real 
possession,  and  one  which  has  always   exercised 
the  greatest  fascination  upon  women.     If  He'lene 
were  in  London,  she  would  become  aware  of  his 
real  position  in  society,  and  that  position  was  such 
as  perhaps  to  balance  in  the  girl's  estimation  that 
of  a  Marquis  doomed  to  idiocy.     In  consequence, 
he  determined  to  try  all  his  powers  of  persuasion 
upon  Hedene  and  M.  Mole"  to  decide  them  to  go  to 
England.    "  I  don't  see  at  all  why  the  idea  of  com- 
ing to  London  should  not  be  seriously  considered 
by  your  father,"  he  resumed,  with  more  warmth 
than  was  his  wont.    "  I  think  I  could  be  very  use- 
ful to  him  in  some  of  his  researches.     I  hope  I 
may  tempt  him.    I  know  some  very  rare  and  very 
valuable    manuscripts,  hidden   jealously  from  the, 
mass  of  ordinary  men  of  science,  to  which  I  tan 
give  him  access  ;  he  would  fill  a  volume  of  notes 
merely  on  some  objects  in  my  keeping  at  the  mu- 
seum.   I  should  be  proud  to  take  him  and  yen  to 


88  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

Oxford,  to  show  you  the  college  of  which  I  am 
Fellow ;  it  is  well  worth  seeing,  and  you  have  noth- 
ing like  it  in  France.  M.  Mole"  takes  the  keenest 
interest  in  questions  of  education,  and  would  have 
ample  scope  for  observations." 

"  Oh ! "  gayly  said  Helene,  putting  her  hands 
over  her  ears,  "  vous  en  direz  tant ! "  And  as  at  that 
moment  her  father  was  coming  back  after  seems 
the  Marquis  away,  she  said  to  him :  "  This  is  the 
tempter,  and  I  leave  you  to  his  snares." 

And  Pearce  made  his  first  advance  and  fouyht 
his  first  fight  against  M.  Mold's  objections :  the 
fortress  did  not  seem  as  if  it  would  hold  out  in- 
definitely. M.  Mole-  was  brought  to  acknowledge 
that  it  looked  possible,  nay,  that  it  might  be 
enjoyable. 

"  Why  always  go  to  Paris,  to  the  same  place  ?" 
asked  Pearce,  "when  London  would  be  an  entirely 
new  source  of  information,  and  almost  as  accessi- 
ble ?  .  .  .  The  difficulty  about  the  language?.  .  . 
That  is  nothing,  since  Mademoiselle  HeMeiie  un- 
derstands English,  and  will  soon  speak  it  when 
she  is  obliged ;  and  besides,  will  not  Jean  be  their 
cicerone,  or  might  not  I  myself,  if  permitted  ?" 

But  Jean  interrupted  him  there,  saying  that  he 
did  not  think  of  returning  to  London  this  year. 

"  How  now  ?  .  .  .  I  thought  it  was  settled," 
said  Pearce,  very  much  astonished. 

"I   understood  you  h;i«l  decided  to  spend  an- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  89 

other  year  in  London  ! "  exclaimed  his  father,  quite 
taken  by  surprise. 

"  No ;  I  have  not  yet  made  up  my  mind  as  to 
what  it  will  be  best  for  me  to  do  next  year,"  an- 
swered Jean,  with  a  certain  degree  of  embarrass- 
ment. "I  rather  think  of  remaining  in  Paris;  but 
—  but  I  have  further  to  consider  it." 

Pearce,  well  pleased  with  his  morning's  work, 
declined  to  stay  for  dejeuner ;  he  said  he  had  prom- 
ised his  mother  to  be  back  at  La  Saulaie  in  time 
to  take  her  out  for  a  walk  in  the  afternoon.  "  By 
the  by,"  he  added,  addressing  himself  to  Jean, 
"  the  ladies  complain  that  you  neglect  them  awfully 
now.  Olive  pretends  that  she  would  hardly  rec- 
ognize you  if  you  came  unexpectedly,  and  that  she 
would  call  upon  your  sister  if  she  were  sure  of  not 
turning  you  out." 

"  Then  I  '11  go  with  you  if  you  don't  mind  giv- 
ing me  some  lunch,  and  we  shall  bring  the  ladies 
here  afterwards ;  we  '11  see  if  Miss  Olive  does  not 
know  me  a£rain." 


90  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 


VII. 

Instead  of  taking  a  walk  in  the  afternoon,  Mrs. 
Pearce  and  Olive  called  upon  Madame  Mold.  It 
was  a  mistake,  they  declared,  to  choose  the  hot- 
test part  of  the  day  to  go  out ;  therefore  they 
had  brought  their  work  to  join  Helene,  whose 
custom  it  was  to  spend  a  few  hours  in  the  garden 
before  dinner,  sewing  or  reading.  She  was  with 
her  mother  and  Maxime,  talking  about  the 
young  man's  prospects,  and  lie  was  annoyed  at 
the  interruption  which  naturally  resulted  from 
a  visit. 

Mrs.  Pearce  told  Madame  Mold  that  Jean  and 
her  son  had  gone  for  a  swim  in  the  river,  and 
would  soon  join  them;  meanwhile,  she  intended 
to  be  very  industrious,  for  she  had  to  get  on  seri- 
ously with  the  cushion  sin;  was  making,  else  it 
would  never  be  finished  when  they  left.  But  this 
hot  weather,  although  very  agreeable  to  her  in 
many  respects,  developed  an  almost  irresistible 
tendency  to  idleness;  and  whenever  she  took  up 
a  book  or  a  piece  of  work  and  wras  left  to  herself, 
-In'  invariably  fell  into  a.  doze. 

One  of  Madame    Mole's  peculiarities  was  that 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  91 

she  never  did  any  needlework  ;  this  came  from 
an  inability  to  fix  her  attention,  —  a  result  of  her 
former  morbid  state.  When  alone  or  with  the 
members  of  her  family,  she  almost  unconsciously 
drew  the  chapelet  which  hung  at  her  side,  and  told 
her  beads  when  they  were  silent  or  occupied.  She 
often  expressed  the  wish  to  be  able  to  work,  for 
then  she  could  be  useful  to  the  poor ;  but  it  had 
become  an  impossibility.  She  asked  Mrs.  Pearce 
why  she  was  so  desirous  of  finishing  her  cushion 
before  she  left,  and  learned  that  it  was  intended 
as  a  present  for  her,  —  "  for  fear  of  your  forgetting 
us  altogether  when  we  are  gone,  you  know,"  said 
Mrs.  Pearce.  She  was  answered  bv  the  assurance 
that  she  would  never  be  forgotten,  any  more  than 
her  dear  niece.  "  But  are  you  already  thinking 
of  going  back  ? " 

"  Ah,  me !  I  wish  to  goodness  I  had  not  to 
think  about  it,  it  is  such  a  trouble.  ...  I  don't 
know  why  it  is  so,  but  life  seems  to  be  made  of 
endless  troubles  ;  as  soon  as  one  begins  to  feel 
comfortable  somewhere,  one  must  go  somewhere 
else.  It  is  nearly  intolerable.  Now  I  was  getting 
accustomed  to  what  seemed  to  me  the  oddity  of 
French  ways  to  such  a  degree  that  they  amused 
me,  —  as  a  change;  and  I  had  succeeded  in  turning 
Margot  into  a  stylish  and  obedient  girl. —  which 
is  a  great  comfort.  Put  it  must  all  be  given  up 
to  go  and  meet  with  new  troubli 


92  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  But,  Aunt,  Margot  never  was  disobedient,"  re- 
monstrated Olive  ;  "  only  at  the  beginning  she  did 
not  always  understand  your  orders." 

"  Oh !  she  pretended  not  to  understand  ;  it  was 
only  to  try  whether  I  could  be  firm,  for  I  always 
took  care  to  speak  plainly.  Now,  you  remember 
yourself  that  I  could  not  get  her  to  buy  the  kind 
of  butter  I  liked  best  until  I  insisted  firmly  upon 
it." 

"  And  showed  her  the  pattern  upon  it  at  the 
market ;  it 's  called  here  beurre  brode,  and  you  called 
it  bcuebudct,  Auut." 

"Why,  it's  just  the  same!  But  it  does  not 
signify,  as  1  am  the  first  to  say  that  she  is  now 
obedient." 

All  the  listeners  were  very  much  amused  by 
Mrs.  Pearce's  harmless  pretensions. 

"And  why  are  you  obliged  to  go  so  soon?" 
Hdlene  hastened  to  ask.  "  October,  though  some- 
times a  little  chilly  in  the  mornings  and  evenings 
towards  the  end,  is  generally  very  tine  here." 

"  It's  Henry,  who  has  to  go  back  to  deliver  some 
lectures.  How  very  tedious  it  is  to  be  tied  to 
stated  days  !     It's  a  kind  of  slavery." 

"  Most  of  us  are  slaves  so  far,"  said  Maxiine. 

"  And  it  is  what  takes  so  much  from  life's  en- 
joyment.    Had   1    been  ;i  man,  I  would   have  lnali- 

aged  so  as  to  keep  my  liberty.    I  often  say  so  to 

Henry." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  93 

"  I  suppose  he  answers  that  although  very  de- 
sirable, it  is  also  very  difficult." 

"  Yes,  he  does ;  but  I  think  most  people  are  not 
as  sensitive  as  I  am  to  all  sorts  of  annoyance, 
otherwise  they  would  be  more  careful  to  spare 
themselves.  Yourself,  now,  for  iDstance,  might 
have  stayed  at  home,  I  daresay,  instead  of  expos- 
ing yourself  to  so  many  dangers  and  your  mother 
to  so  much  anxiety  by  going  so  far.  Engineers 
must  be  in  constant  request  in  France,  by  all  I 
can  see  ;  they  make  new  railways,  canals,  and  that 
sort  of  thing,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  found  a  means  of  earning  much 
more  money,  experience,  and  reputation  in  going  to 
the  Cape." 

"  And  do  you  intend  to  go  again  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  yet ;  that  depends  upon  a  partic- 
ular thing  over  which  I  have  no  power.  If  it 
were  decided  according  to  my  hopes,  I  should  be 
most  happy  to  stay  ;  if  not  .  .  .  then  I  shall  go 
away  again,  very  likely  for  several  years."  .  .  .  His 
voice  was  sad  and  unsteady.  He  looked  intently 
towards  Hdlene,  but  she  did  not  raise  her  eyes. 

"This  is  not  at  all  what  your  mother  expects," 
exclaimed  Madame  Mold,  "and  your  going  away 
again  would  lie  a  dreadful  disappointment;  she 
could  not  bear   it." 

"God  knows  I  don't  wish  to  inflict  it  upon  us; 
it  would  be  quite  as  hard  for  me  as  for  her." 


94  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  One  never  knows  what  way  young  men  will 
turn,  and  it  is  one  of  the  exasperating  facts  of  ex- 
istence," remarked  Mrs.  Pearce.  "  Who  would  have 
thought  that  your  son,  Madame  Mold,  would  sud- 
denly change  his  mind,  as  Henry  tells  me  he  is  on 
the  point  of  doing  ?  .  .  .  He  had  told  us  all  about 
his  projects  and  schemes  for  next  year;  he  had 
made  me  consent  to  abandon  the  greater  part  of 
my  precious  garden  to  establish  a  lawn-tennis  ;  he 
was  to  paint  my  portrait,  and  I  don't  know  how 
many  other  things  besides;  and  now  he  coolly  says 
he  does  not  think  he  '11  go  back  to  London  ! " 

"  Oh !  does  he  really  say  so  ?  "  cried  Olive,  in 
dismay. 

"You'd  better  ask  him;  there  he  comes,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Pearce. 

Immediately  questioned  on  the  subject,  Jean 
explained  that  nothing  was  decided  yet;  that  lie 
was  weighing  in  his  mind  what  would  be  mosl  prof- 
itable; and  that  so  far  as  his  present  conclusions 
went,  it  certainly  seemed  wiser  for  him  to  spend 
the  next  year  in  Paris. 

"And,  please,  where  waa  the  use  of  turning  my 
poor  garden  topsy-turvy  under  pretext  <>f  playing 
lawn-tennis,  if  you  Btay  away?"  asked  Mrs.  Pearce. 
"  I  am  not  the  one  to  play  with  olive,  neither  is 
Henry,  I  fancy !" 

"1  Bhall  learn  the  game,  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  teaching  it  to  Mademoiselle  Jlelene  when  she 
comes,"  sniil  Pearce. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  95 

"  If  she  comes  !"  .  .  .  interrupted  Helene,  shak- 
ing her  head. 

"Xow  here  is  another  uncertainty!  How  can 
one  have  sufficient  patience  to  bear  with  all  these 
dilatory  people?  It's  as  provoking  as  being  in 
Scotland,  where  you  never  can  get  a  downright 
answer  to  any  question,"  remarked  Mrs.  Pearce 
with  slight  irritation. 

Jean  and  Pearce  had  brought  chairs  near  the 
ladies,  and  after  sitting  down  they  remained  silent 
for  some  time.  Jean  had  thrown  his  straw  hat  on 
the  ground,  and  was  rocking  himself  slowly,  with 
his  eyes  shut,  as  if  lost  in  meditation.  Maxime 
traced  melancholy  hieroglyphs  on  the  sand  with 
his  stick,  while  Pearce's  thoughts  seemed  to  fol" 
low  high  up  in  the  air  the  faint  blue  smoke  of  his 
cigarette.  A  feeling  of  sadness,  not  entirely  de- 
void of  charm,  was  pervading  the  atmosphere.  The 
air  was  perfectly  still :  the  autumnal  haze,  red- 
dened by  the  heat  of  the  day,  spread  like  a  gor- 
geous veil  between  the  river  and  the  hills ;  the 
flowers  drooped  their  heads  to  the  parched  earth, 
and  now  and  then  a  leaf  fell  noiselessly,  without  a 
flutter.  The  smell  of  luscious  ripe  fruit,  blended 
with  the  perfumes  of  the  heliotropes  and  petunias, 
hung  about  without  rising,  and  lulled  the  senses 
to  dreaminess. 

It  was  Madame  Mole"  who  at  last,  with  a 
sigh,  gave  utterance  to  the  general  preoccupation. 


96  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  How  strange,"  she  said,  "  to  be  here  together,  and 
to  think  that  in  so  short  a  time  we  shall  be  sepa- 
rated,—  each  of  us  going  in  a  separate  path  of  his 
own,  and  some  perhaps  never  to  meet  again!" 

"Oh,  don't  say  never  to  meet  again!"  pleaded 
Olive,  her  usually  laughing  blue  eyes  dimmed  by 
tears  ;  "it's  painful  enough  to  separate,  even  with 
the  hope  of  reunion." 

"  It  is  sadder  for  old  people  like  me,  who  never 
travel ;  there  is  less  chance  of  meeting  again.  Sup- 
pose you  get  married  next  year :  it  is  quite  possi- 
ble that  your  husband  may  never  come  this  way." 

"Olive  married  next  year!"  cried  Pearce,  who 
burst  out  laughing;  "what  a  clever  and  accom- 
plished wife  she  would  make!  .  .  .  Don't  you 
know  that  she  is  going  to  be  sent  to  school  next 
year,  Madame  Mold  ?  " 

"I  am  sure  she  is  clever  enough  and  sufficiently 
accomplished  to  make  a  good  little  wile,"  an- 
swered Madame  Mold   with  great  decision. 

Jean  would  have  liked  to  kiss  his  mother 
twenty   times. 

"Oh!  it's  not  likely  that  I  shall  get  married 
soon,"  Olive  said;  "  having  no  fortune  to  speak  of, 
I  must  begin  to  think  seriously  about  qualifying 
myself  for  something  or  other." 

"In  general,  when  young  people  many,"  pur- 
sued Madame  Mold,  "their  fortune  is  not  made; 
they  have  to  make  it,  —  at   least   it   is  our  notion 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  97 

in  the  French  middle-class.  Provided  the  wife 
has  a  little  dowry  and  simple  tastes,  and  the  hus- 
band a  good  profession  and  courage,  it  is  thought 
sufficient  to  begin  with." 

"Ah!  but  it's  very  different  in  England,"  said 
Pearce.  "  So  much  money  is  necessary  to  live  de- 
cently now,  a  fellow  can't  think  of  encumbering 
himself  with  a  wife  and  family  with  less  than  two 
thousands  pounds  a  year,  if  he  means  to  be  consid- 
ered a  gentleman." 

"  How  much  is  that  in  French  money  ? "  asked 
Madame  Mole\ 

"  Cinquaute  mille  francs,"  answered  Jean. 

"  Cinquaute  mille  francs  to  be  spent  every 
year!"  exclaimed  Madame  Mold,  lifting  her  hands 
to  heaven  and  looking  utterly  bewildered.  "  What 
can  they  do  with  so  much  money  ? " 

"  They  only  do  like  their  neighbors,  you  know, 
and  nobody  likes  to  be  looked  down  upon  by  one's 
friends.  It's  the  fashion  now  to  live  in  very 
pretty  houses,  kept  in  first-rate  style  ;  and  the 
fashion  is  not  at  all  disagreeable,  I  can  assure  you. 
We  like  to  be  surrounded  by  works  of  art,  or  at 
least,  if  we  can't  afford  them,  by  artistic  things, — 
furniture,  carpets,  china,  etc.  The  aesthetic  faculty 
has  so  much  developed  of  late  that  one  cannot 
own  anything  vulgar  or  commonplace  without 
being  put  down  as  uncultivated  and  unrefined. 
The  result  is  that  everybody  is  alive  to  the  neces- 

7 


98  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

sity  of  showing  taste  and  knowledge  in  all  his 
belongings.  Even  the  ladies  dress  better  than 
they  ever  did  before ;  the  children,  better  attended, 
each  with  a  nurse,  have  nicer  manners,  and  look 
prettier  in  consequence;  and  the  service, discharged 
by  well-trained  servants  understanding  their  sev- 
eral specialties,  is  perfect.  But  of  course  all  this 
comfort  has  to  be  paid  for." 

"  Still,"  interrupted  Madame  Mole,  "  cinquante 
mille  francs  is  a  large  sum  of  money;  I  don't 
know  a  single  house  at  Champignol  where  so 
much  is  spent  in  a  year,  although  we  have  several 
aristocratic  families,  keeping  their  carriage-and- 
pair,  and  living  in  style." 

"  The  difference  is,  that  in  France  people  are 
so  easily  contented,"  resumed  Pearce.  "  I  don't 
know  how  they  manage,  I  am  sure.  Look  here, 
Madame  Mold,  —  I  don't  seem  to  be  a  very  ex- 
travagant fellow,  do  I,  now  ?  Well,  then,  what  do 
you  think  I  spend  a  year  ? " 

"  I  can't  possibly  guess.  .  .  .  You  live  with 
your  mother,  I   think?  ..." 

"No;  my  mother  keeps  two  rooms  for  me,  —  a 
bedroom  and  a  study,  —  and  I  go  to  her  whenever 
I  can  spare  the  time.  But  1  have  a  very  small  es- 
tablishment in  London  and  a  couple  of  rooms  at 
Oxford.  Well,  with  my  books  and  travels  I  spend 
half  the  sum  I  ascribed  to  a  married  man  as  neces- 
sary,    I  may  add  that    I   am  neither  addicted  to 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  99 

drink,  betting,  nor  gambling,  and  tbat  I  should 
feel  awfully  cramped  if  I  had  to  cut  off  my  pur- 
chases of  books  or  of  any  material  for  my  work." 

"  Well,  I  can't  help  thinking  that  it 's  unfortu- 
nate not  to  be  able  to  manage  with  less  money," 
answered  Madame  Mole\  "  If  a  man  can't  marry 
before  he  earns  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year,  you 
must  have  a  good  many  old  maids  and  old 
bachelors  in  England." 

"  Oh  1  there  are  not  wanting  reckless  people 
who  marry  anyhow,  and  whose  friends  have  to 
provide  for  them  afterwards,"  said  Mrs.  Pearce. 
"  It 's  one  of  the  greatest  troubles  of  life  to  have 
needy  relations ;  and  in  consequence  I  consider  it 
as  a  sort  of  dishonesty  to  get  married  without 
enough  to  live  upon.  This  I  take  good  care  to 
impress  upon  Olive  and  Henry.'' 

"And  you,  Hedene,"  asked  Maxiine,  "do  you 
think  you  will  never  get  married  on  less  than 
fifty  thousand  francs  a  year  ? " 

Hedene  smiled  a  little  sadly.  "Oh!"  she  said, 
"  I  am  only  a  French  girl,  with  French  notions  of 
commc-il-fmd.  I  can  feel  very  happy  in  a  muslin 
dress,  even  if  my  neighbor  wears  one  of  satin  ;  and 
if  the  service  of  Toinette  is  not  faultless,  I  can 
help  myself.  If  ever  I  marry,  I  should  be  very 
sorry  to  oblige  my  husband  to  earn  such  large 
sums  of  money  for  me." 

"But  I  am  sure  he  would  be  happy  and  proud 


100  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

to  work  for  you,"  said  Pearce.  "  It  must  be  said 
for  Englishmen  that  if  they  spend  much,  they  are 
willing  to  work  hard." 

"  Yes ;  but  in  spite  of  the  most  serious  efforts 
one  does  not  always  succeed  in  earning  a  large 
income,"  remarked  Maxime. 

"  Then  in  such  a  case  one  ought  to  remain 
single,"  Pearce  answered  without  hesitation. 

"  And  never  to  love,  then  ? " 

"Well,  of  course  it  would  be  better  not,  if  it 
could  be  helped." 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  see  such  ideas  pre- 
vail in  France,"  said  Madame  Mole',  "  because  I 
should  have  very  little  chance  of  ever  seeing  my 
children  settled.  I  hope  Jean  is  not  going  to 
wait  till  he  earns  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year  to 
choose  a  wife." 

"  He  may  find  a  girl  with  a  fortune,  you  know, 
with  his  talent,"  said  Mrs.  Pearce. 

"Thank  you  for  the  compliment,  Mrs.  Pearce! 
But  I  can  do,  I  hope,  with  my  own  earnings,  and 
be  very  happy  too,  provided  my  wife  is  not  aes- 
thetic! .  .  .  And  then  I  shall  be  very  careful  to 
settle  out  of  England.  I'll  take  my  wife  there, 
though,  to  show  her  how  nice  everything  is,  and  I 
won't  even  mind  spending  some  time  with  my 
friends  —  free  of  cost !  " 

"Jean  never  can  be  serious  long,  you  know, 
mother,"  said  Pearce. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  101 

"  That 's  pure  calumny  ! "  cried  Jean  ;  "  and  the 
proof  is,  that  I  stick  to  one  subject,  and  I  mean 
to  put  this  question  to  you  :  Now  that  you  have 
persuaded  Miss  Olive  that  a  single  person  can't 
live  under  a  thousand  a  year,  and  a  married  one 
under  two,  —  in  what  direction  are  you  going  to 
lead  her  that  she  may  be  enabled  some  day  to 
earn  either  the  one  or  the  other  of  those  trifles  ?  " 

"  But,  M.  Jean,"  exclaimed  Olive  with  a  very 
pretty  roguish  look,  "  he  has  not  persuaded  me  at 
all!" 

"  Bravo !  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it ! "  And 
Jean  clapped  his  hands. 

"  It  's  my  belief  that  if  any  Frenchman  were 
foolish  enough  to  make  you  an  offer,  Olive,  you 
would  accept  it  blindfold  rather  than  work  to  go 
to  G-irton,"  said  Pearce  ironically. 

"  Will  you  be  very  much  surprised  to  hear  that 
even  without  the  least  chance  of  an  offer  I  shall 
not  go  to  Girton  ? "  asked  Olive,  blushing  very 
red  at  her  own  temerity ;  her  cousin's  taunts 
having  fairly  driven  her  to  open  rebellion. 

"  No,  indeed,"  he  answered  in  a  brief,  cold  tone. 
He  was  beginning  to  be  afraid  of  a  scene,  in  which 
the  sympathies  of  the  listeners  might  be  alienated 
from  him.  "I  never  believed  that  you  seriously 
intended  to  try." 

"I'd  rather  learn  thoroughly  a  modern  lan- 
guage,—  German,  or  Italian,  or  Spanish,  —  than 


102  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

Greek  or  Latin,  which  may  never  be  of  any  use 
to  rne,  and  which  I  shall  never  really  know,"  said 
Olive,  still  flushed  with  excitement.  "  In  that 
case  I  might  make  translations,  or  give  lessons,  if 
need  be." 

"  That  is  not  such  a  bad  idea,"  answered  Pearce, 
who  was  struck  by  the  hope  that  his  cousin  might 
become  the  means  of  bringing  Helene  to  England. 
"  The  thorough  knowledge  of  a  modern  language 
is  a  serious  acquisition,  and  always  imparts  to  its 
possessor  a  certain  superiority  ;  society  appreciates 
it,  particularly  in  women.  I  should  think,  though, 
that  if  you  mean  to  study  a  modern  language  seri- 
ously, you  had  better  get  on  with  French  rather 
than  begin  with  any  other,  since  you  are  already 
pretty  much  advanced." 

Olive  was  quite  taken  aback  by  the  way  in 
which  her  declaration  of  independence  had  been 
received  ;  she  had  wished  for  some  time  past  to 
acquaint  her  cousin  with  her  dread  of  the  Girton 
scheme;  she  had  turned  ever  so  many  phrases  in 
her  head  without  finding  the  desirable  one.  She 
had  imagined  incidents  which  would  make  the 
confession  less  humiliating,  but  those  incidents 
would  not  occur.  She  had  been  haunted  by  a  sort 
of  nightmare  of  what  his  indignation  or  disdain 
would  prompt  him  to  say  ;  and  lo!  it  was  all  over 
now,  her  dreaded  confession  had  been  made  in 
public,  ami  she  had  experienced  no  pangs  of  shame. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCMTY.  103 

Could  it  be  that  a  subtle,  unacknowledged  influence 
was  sustaining  her  ? 

"  I  hope,  Henry,  you  don't  mean  to  suggest  that 
we  ought  to  remain  in  France  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Pearce  in  a  mildly  querulous  tone,  —  "  now  that 
I  have  got  over  the  trouble  of  making  up  my 
mind  to  go,  too."  As  Mrs.  Pearce  never  thought 
of  resisting  any  of  her  son's  decisions,  either  for 
herself  or  anybody  else,  she  was  beginning  to  be 
afraid  that  he  might  decree  a  protracted  stay  in 
France  for  the  benefit  of  Olive's  studies,  and  she 
thought  it  as  well  to  let  him  see  how  utterly  im- 
possible it  would  be,  before  he  had  pronounced 
upon  the  point.  "  The  cold  weather  will  soon  set 
in,"  she  went  on,  "  and  it  is  out  of  the  question  to 
think  of  ever  being  tolerably  warm  in  our  pres- 
ent French  house,  without  either  coals  or  carpets, 
—  without  mentioning  gas.  Then  I  have  accepted 
ever  so  many  invitations  for  Christmas ;  I  can't 
possibly  disappoint  my  friends." 

"  Oh  !  I  never  thought  of  making  you  spend  the 
winter  in  France,  Mother.  I  know  you  would 
feel  it  hard  to  be  deprived  of  the  comforts  you  are 
accustomed  to.  .  .  .  It  might  be  desirable  that 
Olive  should  do  so,  perhaps.  .  .  .  Well,  we  may 
think  about  it." 

Jean  felt  his  heart  swelling  in  his  breast  as  if  it 
would  choke  him  ;  he  dared  not  say  a  word.  He 
did  not  raise  his  eyes,  for  fear  they  should  betray 
the  eagerness  of  his  hope. 


104  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

Hdlene  looked  appealingly  at  her  mother,  and 
Madame  Mole"  smiled  kindly  in  return.  "  Would 
you  confide  me  your  niece  for  a  few  months,  Mrs. 
Pearce,"  she  asked  simply,  "  while  you  go  to 
your  friends  ?  It  might  be  very  profitable  to 
Hdlene  to  have  the  companionship  of  Miss  Olive, 
and  very  agreeable  also;  they  would  teach  each 
other  and  make  great  progress,  no  doubt,  because 
girls  always  have  so  much  to  talk  about.  But 
would  our  homely  ways  suit  Miss  Olive  herself  ? " 

"  Oh !  how  can  I  thank  you  sufficiently  for 
your  kindness,  Madame  Mold  ?  "  said  Olive,  run- 
ning to  kiss  the  little  lady,  in  her  charmingly 
impulsive  way.  "It  would  be  a  delightful  finish- 
ing-school !  But  I  could  not  think  of  giving  you 
so  much  trouble." 

"  Don't  mention  it,  my  dear ;  it  would  be  a  real 
pleasure  to  us  all  to  keep  you  a  little  longer.  .  .  . 
The  only  difficulty,"  she  added,  with  some  hesi- 
tation, "  might  come  from  the  .  .  .  difference  of 
.  .  .  of  religious  belief." 

The  fact  is  that  Madame  Mold  had  not  thought 
of  it  when  she  had  made  her  invitation.  But 
now  the  idea  of  admitting  a  Protestant  to  the 
intimacy  of  her  domestic  life  seemed  so  prepos- 
terous that  she  did  not  see  how  to  extricate  her- 
self from  fix;  awkward  situation  in  which  she  was 
placed  by  her  offer. 

"There  need  be  no  difficulty  about  that,"  an- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  105 

swered  Mrs.  Pearce.  "  My  sister-in-law  was  of 
Irish  extraction,  and  my  brother  allowed  her  to 
bring  up  Olive  in  the  Roman  Catholic  religion.  I 
was  opposed  to  it  on  account  of  possible  family 
dissension ;  but  he  told  me  that  he  and  his  wife 
had  agreed  to  bring  up  their  boys  —  if  they  had 
any  —  in  the  religion  of  their  father,  and  the  girls 
in  that  of  their  mother.  You  see,  marriages  be- 
tween persons  of  different  creeds  are  a  source  of 
troubles  in  so  many  ways  ! " 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  ! "  said  Madame  Mole",  with 
almost  religious  fervor.  She  had  not  heeded  the 
last  portion  of  Mrs.  Pearce's  speech.  It  was  for 
her  a  source  of  deep  satisfaction  to  know  that  this 
lovely  girl,  to  whom  she  had  really  become  at- 
tached, was  a  member  of  the  sole  church  she 
recognized  as  true,  that  her  pure  soul  was  in  no 
peril. 

"All  this  requires  thought  and  consideration," 
said  Pearce  at  last;  "we  shall  have  to  weigh  nil 
sorts  of  considerations  before  deciding  anything, 
and  M.  Mold  must  be  consulted."  He  was  care- 
ful not  to  look  anxious  for  tin;  realization  of  a 
project  upon  which  lie  had  nevertheless  set  his 
heart.  His  plan  was  to  let  the  thing  be  settled 
in  all  particulars,  and  just  at  last  to  raise  an  ob- 
jection on  account  of  Olive's  return.  Of  course 
she  could  not  come  back  by  herself,  and  he  was 
so  busy  in   the  spring,  because  of  all  the  exhibi- 


106  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

tions,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  come 
to  fetch  her.  On  the  other  hand,  if  M.  Mold  and 
Hedene  decided  to  go  to  England,  no  time  in  the 
year  might  be  better  chosen  than  the  beginning  of 
the  season ;  he  would  be  in  London  then,  and 
might  show  them  what  was  worth  seeing,  and 
perhaps  they  would  bo  kind  enough  to  bring  back 
Olive  with  them. 

This  was  how  he  meant  to  present  the  project 
to  M.  Mold,  and  to  induce  him  to  give  his  prom- 
ise; he  thought  nobody  could  suspect  him  of  hav- 
ing an  interest  in  it,  it  looked  so  perfectly  natural. 
He  did  not  know  what  a  powerful  ally  he  would 
find  in  Jean,  whose  only  fear  was  of  some  obstacle 
which  might  prevent  the  realization  of  his  reawak- 
ened hopes.  Had  not  Olive  looked  overjoyed  at 
the  proposition  of  being  left  behind  ?  .  .  .  Could 
it  be  that  she  only  showed  her  readiness  to  ac- 
quiesce in  everything  that  Pearce  wanted  her  to 
do  ?  .  .  . 

Soon  after  this  Mrs.  Pearce  took  her  leave,  not 
without  having  bewailed  the  state  of  uncertainty 
into  which  she  was  going  to  be  thrown  by  this 
new  scheme.  It  is  true  that  her  general  helpless- 
ness rendered  Olive  almost  necessary  to  her;  but 
whether  the  girl  went  to  Girton  or  remained  in 
France,  her  aunt  would  have  to  do  without  her. 
And  since  she  had  to  put  up  with  her  absence,  it 
was  more  convenient  to  be  deprived  of  her  niece's 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  107 

company  and  attentions  while  she  was  visiting 
her  friends,  who  of  course  would  make  her  com- 
fortable, than  at  any  other  time.  These  considera- 
tions, though  of  a  somewhat  selfish  order,  inclined 
Mrs.  Pearce  to  offer  no  opposition  to  whatever  her 
son  might  eventually  decide. 


108  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 


VIII. 

A  few  davs  afterwards  two  letters  from  Ma- 
dame  Ledoyen  were  delivered  at  M.  Mold's  house, 
—  one  for  Maxime,  the  other  for  Madame  Mole\ 
This  appeared  curious  to  Hdlene,  who  thought  that 
there  must  be  something  very  particular  for  her 
mother,  since  it  was  not  confided  to  the  care  of 
Maxime,  as  the  expression  of  kind  regards  or  grat- 
itude generally  was.  She  noticed  a  pleased  look 
on  her  mother's  face,  with  a  certain  degree  of  emo- 
tion, while  Maxime  turned  exceedingly  pale  and 
thrust  the  letter  into  his  pocket  without  reading 
it  through. 

"  Is  Madame  Ledoyen  quite  well  ? "  asked  116- 
lene  of  her  mother. 

"  Oh,  yes !  quite ;  but  she  wants  her  son  now. 
I  am  afraid  we  sha'n't  be  able  to  keep  him  much 
longer." 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  Jean  proposed 
bo  go  to  Mis.  Pearce'a  with  Helene,  his  father,  and 
Maxime,  to  learn  whether  anything  had  been  de- 
cided about  Olive.  Maxime,  however,  declined, 
saying  he  had  some  letters  to  write.     He  had  as- 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  109 

certained  that  both  Monsieur  and  Madame  Mold 
would  stay  at  home;  and  as  soon  as  Jean  had  gone 
away  with  his  sister  he  told  Madame  Mole-  that 
he  wished  to  speak  to  her.  She  replied,  with  an 
encouraging  smile,  that  she  guessed  what  the  sub- 
ject of  the  conversation  was  to  be,  and  that  they 
would  have  to  no  to  M.  Mold's  cabinet  to  meet 
him  there. 

"  I  have  seen  your  mother's  letter,  mon  cher  gar- 
gon,"  were  the  first  words  which  greeted  Maxime ; 
"and  that  surely  ought  to  relieve  you  to  some 
extent.  Sit  down  now,  and  you  too,  dear,"  said 
M.  Mole-,  tenderly  leading  his  wife  to  an  armchair; 
he  himself  sat  opposite  to  her.  "  Your  good 
mother  says,"  he  went  on  in  a  voice  less  firm 
than  usual,  "  that  you  love  our  Hedene  and  wish 
her  to  become  your  wife,  that  the  realization  of 
this  project  would  make  her  very  happy,  and  that 
she  wants  you  to  tell  us  all  your  plans  in  order  that 
you  may  bring  her  a  decisive  answer.  ...  Is  it  so  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Maxime,  feeling  as  if  the 
thumps  of  his  heart  were  deafening  him,  so  loud 
they  seemed.  "I  have  loved  Hedene  from  the  first 
day  that  I  saw  her,  and  I  have  loved  her  ever 
since.  I  have  worked  hard  to  win  her,  and  if  it 
seems  a  great  presumption  on  my  part  to  ask  her 
to  share  my  modest  position,  nobody  is  more  alive 
to  it  than  myself;  but  on  the  eve  of  an  important 
decision,  which  will   depend  upon  her  verdict,  I 


110  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

was  driven  to  ascertain  my  fate,  almost  against 
my  will." 

"  Your  mother  alludes  to  business  matters  ?  " 

"Yes;  the  Company  for  which  I  went  to  the 
Cape  make  me  a  very  fine  offer  if  I  will  sign  an 
engagement  for  three  years.  On  the  other  hand, 
I  am  sufficiently  known  now  to  find  enough  of 
remunerative  work  in  France  if — if  Hdlene  con- 
sents to  become  my  wife.  I  may  give  you  my 
word  of  honor  that  I  am  certain  of  making  an  in- 
come  of  ten  thousand  francs  a  year  to  begin  with. 
I  know  it  is  not  much ;  but  there  will  be  a  grad- 
ual increase.  Of  course  it 's  not  comparable  to 
the  conditions  offered  me  for  going  again  to  the 
Cape.  But  I  have  no  wish  to  accept;  it  is  only 
in  case  of  being  rejected  that  I  should  want  to 
change  the  direction  of  my  thoughts  and  hopes." 

"I  may  as  well  tell  you  immediately  that  I 
have  talked  the  subject  over  with  my  wife  and 
that  we  are  of  one  mind.  There  is  not  any  other 
man  in  the  world  to  whom  I  would  rather  intrust 
the  happiness  of  my  child,  than  to  you;  I  should 
feel  it  secure  in  your  hands.  Your  position  we 
consider  satisfactory,  and  with  He*lene's  dowry 
you  would  have  a  sufficient  income  to  begin  mar- 
ried life  without  anxiety.  Our  objections,  there- 
fore, are  only  about  your  respective  ages  ;  we  think 
both  of  you  very  young  still." 

"  1  was  afraid  you  would  think  so,  and  I  should 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  Ill 

have  waited  another  year,  in  spite  of  my  impa- 
tience, had  it  not  been  that  I  am  obliged  to  give 
an  immediate  answer  to  the  Diamond  Company. 
But  I  think  a  year  would  make  very  little  differ- 
ence ;  you  know  that  I  shall  not  change.  You 
don't  want  to  put  me  to  the  test.  I  can't  love 
Hdlene  more  faithfully  or  more  deeply  than  I 
have  done  since  I  knew  her;  she  has  been  and 
will  be  my  only  love,  whatever  happens." 

"  As  to  Hdlene's  sentiments,  1  cannot  venture 
to  say  anything.  I  am  sure  that  you  are  dear  to 
her  and  that  she  is  seriously  interested  in  your 
welfare  ;  but  I  know  nothing  more.  Of  course  we 
leave  her  absolutely  free  in  her  choice  of  a  partner 
for  life.  Not  that  I  mean  to  withhold  our  own 
opinion,  or  even  advice ;  but  as  we  have  perfect 
confidence  in  her  judgment,  we  don't  intend  to  use 
our  authority  in  the  matter." 

"  Oh  !  I  should  not  want  her  hand  without  her 
heart.  I  shall  not  even  plead  my  cause  if  she 
does  not  accept  me.  I  think  my  love  is  worthy 
of  hers  in  return ;  and  if  she  cannot  give  it  me,  T 
must  resign  myself  and  hope  that  she  will  choose 
one  more  worthy  of  it.  .  .  .  Will  you  be  so  kind 
as  to  ascertain  what  answer  she  may  '_rive  to  my 
offer,  M.  Mole*  ?  I  feel  sure  that  you  will  say  more 
in  favor  of  my  suit  than  I  could,  and  I  see  that 
you  and  Madame  Mole*  still  remain  what  you  have 
always  been,  —  my  best  frieuds."' 


112  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  I  will  do  as  you  wish,"  answered  M.  Mold ; 
"and  if  Hdlene  does  not  disappoint  her  mother 
and  myself,  we  shall  have  another  son."  M.  Mold 
held  out  his  trembling  hand  to  Maxime,  who 
shook  it  heartily,  but  could  not  say  a  word,  be- 
cause of  the  choking  in  his  throat ;  his  eyes  were 
moist  too,  and  the  tears  that  glittered  there  fairly 
fell  on  little  Madame  Mold's  hair  when  she  em- 
braced him,  saying  amidst  her  sobs,  "  My  child  ! 
my  child ! " 

These  important  preliminaries  had  been  very 
favorable  to  Maxime.  He  knew  that  M.  Mold  and 
his  wife  were  very  fond  of  him,  but  he  was  far 
from  certain  that  they  would  give  him  their  child. 
In  spite  of  the  great  simplicity  of  his  life,  M.  Mold 
was  said  to  possess  an  enviable  fortune.  His 
daughter  was  spoken  of  as  one  of  the  beauties  of 
Champignol,  and  she  was  known  to  be  accom- 
plished far  above  the  general  standard;  it  might 
therefore  be  quite  natural  if  M.  Mold  entertained 
some  ambition  on  the  subject  of  his  daughter's 
marriage.  He  would  perhaps  be  most  inclined 
to  give  her  to  sonic  one  having  won  for  himself 
a  reputation,  on  account  of  his  high  appreciation 
of  culture.  Maxime  had  confided  all  these  doubts 
to  his  mother,  who  had  guessed  long  ago  the 
secret  of  his  love  Hut  .Madame  Ledoycn  had 
always  encouraged  her  son  by  telling  him  that, 
before  and  above  everything  else,  M.  Mold  would 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  113 

think  of  his  daughter's  happiness,  and  that  he 
would  rather  give  her  to  Maxime,  whose  conduct 
and  sentiments  were  so  well  known  to  him,  than 
to  a  stranger,  who  might  he  quite  different  from 
what  he  looked ;  she  added  that  as  to  Madame 
Mold's  wishes  there  was  not  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt,  as  the  two  mothers  had  often  talked  about 
the  desirableness  of  success  for  this  long-caressed 
plan  of  theirs.  Still,  Maxime  was  so  diffident  and 
so  modest  that  after  coming  to  M.  Mold's  with 
the  express  purpose  of  asking  him  for  his  daugh- 
ter's baud,  he  had  not  gathered  sufficient  courage 
to  do  it,  although  his  visit  was  drawing  to  a  close, 
until  his  mother,  tired  of  waiting  for  news  which 
never  came,  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  stand 
back  any  longer.  She  herself  wrote  to  Madame 
Mold  and  made  the  offer  in  her  son's  name,  ex- 
plaining everything  candidly,  and  asking  for  her 
friend's  support.  In  another  letter  of  the  same 
clay  she  told  Maxime  what  she  had  done,  and 
ended  with  the  expression  of  the  hope  that  he 
would  soon  come  back  to  her  quite  happy.  As  to 
Hdlene  herself,  Madame  Ledoyen  had  no  appre- 
hension; she  was  the  very  girl  to  appreciate 
Max,ime's  qualities.  She  had  been  brought  up 
delicately  and  tenderly, — where  could  she  find 
more  delicacy  of  sentiment  and  more  tenderness 
than  in  the  heart  offered  to  her?  Then,  again, 
Hdlene    had    the  greatest  respect  for  her  lather's 

8 


114  GOLDEN   MEDIOCEITY. 

opinion,  and  Madame  Ledoyen  felt  certain  of  that 
opinion  being  favorable  to  her  son;  still,  she  could 
not  help  waiting  anxiously  for  news.  It  came 
two  days  after  the  sending  of  her  own  letters. 
Maxime  wrote :  — 

Dearest  Mother,  —  It  is  as  I  feared;  I  am  rejected. 
Helene  has  given  no  reason,  except  that  she  does  not  feel 
inclined  to  marry  now,  and  will  not  bind  herself  by  any 
promise  about  the  future.  She  is  right.  M.  Mole  is  very 
sorry  for  me,  and  his  kind  wife  still  more  so. 

I  need  say  no  more;  you  know  what  I  suffer.  But  I 
beg  that  the  subject  may  be  buried  and  never  mentioned, 
even  between  you  and  me.  I  do  not  want  to  break  off 
the  old  and  dear  ties  which  unite  us  to  M.  Mole's  fam- 
ily, and  I  intend  to  behave  as  if  nothing  had  happened; 
only  it  will  require  some  time  before  I  can  act  my  part 
naturally,  and  I  shall  spend  three  years  at  the  Cape 
learning   it. 

I  shall  be  with  you  again  to-morrow,  dearest  Mother. 
Forgive  me  the  pain  I  shall  inflict  upon  you;  but  it  is  bet- 
ter  to  try   an  energetic  cure  than  to  remain  moping  at 

home. 

With  my  best  love,  I  remain,  etc., 

Maxime. 

Poor  Madame  Ledoyen  could  not  bring  herself 
for  some  time  to  believe  the  contents  of  this  letter ; 
still,  it  was  so  like  her  son  not  to  harass  her  with 
his  grief,  but  to  express  a  courageous  determina- 
tion of  fighting  it  immediately.  Oh,  yes  !  she 
knew  what  he  must  suffer,  and  he  did  not  attempt 
to  disguise  it. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  115 

Ah,  me !  how  she  cried  when  she  realized  that 
he  would  go  away  again,  and  for  three  long  years ! 
.  .  .  She  never  dreamed  of  offering  any  opposi- 
tion ;  it  would  be  better  for  him  !  She  never  ques- 
tioned his  affection  for  her;  she  trusted  it,  and  felt 
that  he  could  not  bear  his  pain  so  manfully  under 
her  pitying  eye,  and  that  he  would  want  to  be 
among  people  who  did  not  know  of  it.  She  did 
not  accuse  him  of  cruelty,  although  he  was  going 
to  leave  her,  —  ah,  so  lonely!  for  she  was  aware 
that  his  heart  bled  for  her.  .  .  .  Still,  he  must  so ! 
.  .  .  and  she  wept  and  cried  without  intermission, 
without  calling  either  reason  or  resignation  to  her 
help ;  she  abandoned  herself  entirely  to  the  bitter- 
ness of  her  grief,  in  order  to  show  her  son  a  calmed 
and  composed  appearance  on  his  return.  But  she 
was  very  angry  with  Helene ;  and  in  the  depths  of 
her  heart  felt  that  she  could  never  forgive  her. 

Meanwhile  He'lene  herself  was  rather  miserable, 
although  she  did  not  see  how  she  could  have 
acted  otherwise.  She  was  conscious  of  having 
disappointed  those  that  she  best  loved ;  she  was 
very  sorry  for  Maxime,  who  had  not  said  a  word 
to  her  about  his  rejection,  and  who  strove  man- 
fully to  hide  his  disappointment.  She  was  still 
more  sorry  for  Madame  Ledoyen,  because  she  had 
been  told  of  her  son's  determination  to  go  away, 
and  she  could  do  nothing  to  avert  the  conse- 
quences of  the  refusal  by  which  she  had  relinr 


116  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

qnislied  every  friendly  right  of  advice  she  might 
have  possessed  over  his  projects.  But  her  con- 
science absolved  her  from  all  blame  ;  her  instinct 
had  taught  her  that  the  accepted  husband  ought 
to  be  the  best  loved,  and  she  was  not  certain  of 
loving  Maxime  best.  Her  affection  for  him  was 
deep  and  tender,  so  tender  that  she  could  hardly 
bear  the  idea  of  not  seeing  him  again  for  three 
years  ;  but  it  was  a  quiet,  undisturbing  affection. 
She  appreciated  his  qualities  without  romantic 
exaggeration,  and  she  did  not  feel  enraptured  be- 
cause he  loved  her;  while  it  seemed  that  she 
might  be  enraptured  by  the  certainty  of  one  other 
love,  —  the  mere  hope  of  it  was  intoxicating. 
Did  she  love  Pearce,  then  ?  .  .  .  She  was  not 
quite  sure  of  it,  she  did  not  know  him  sufficiently 
yet;  for,  mixed  with  her  great  admiration  of  him, 
were  some  strangely  chilling  forebodings  and  sus- 
picions. She  dwelt  with  infinite  pleasure  upon 
his  peculiar  British  style  of  beauty,  which  had 
made  a  greater  impression  upon  her  by  contrast. 
She  admired  the  dignity  of  his  rare  gestures,  his 
tall  and  aristocratic  frame,  and  she  accepted  as  the 
most  subtle  flattery  which  could  lie  offered  her 
the  softened  tones  of  a  voice  so  brief  and  authori- 
tative when  it  spoke  to  others.  Yet  she  did  not 
feci  carried  unreservedly  towards  him  ;  she  could 
remain  critical,  and  even  suspicious,  —  was  he  not 
selfish  and  proud  ?  .  .  .  Proud  he  had  a  right  to 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  117 

be,  although  her  father  wore  his  own  superiority 
so  meekly ;  but  egotistic  aud  a  slave  to  the  world, 
—  his  world's  opinion?  He  had  himself  pleaded 
guilty  to  this  last  imputation  ;  but  that  must  be 
the  fault  of  society  more  than  his  own.  He  had 
said  one  was  compelled  to  accept  the  general  laws 
then  existing.  Well,  her  heart  could  give  no  de- 
finite answer,  and  her  conscience  forbade  her  to 
promise  her  love  to  Maxime  when  she  was  not 
sure  of  beino-  still  mistress  of  it. 

The  situation  was  felt  to  be  somewhat  con- 
strained at  M.  Mold's,  and  no  attempts  were  made 
to  detain  Maxime  any  longer.  On  the  day  of  his 
departure  he  sought  Toinette  in  her  kitchen  to 
bid  her  good-bye,  to  which  she  answered  cheerfully 
that  she  hoped  it  would  not  be  for  long. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  he  said  with  uncontrollable  sad- 
ness, "  for  very  long,  I  fear.  I  am  going  for  three 
years,  to  begin  with." 

"You  don't  say  so!  Jesus,  mori  Bin/,  three 
years  !  .  .  .  Why,  Mademoiselle  Hdlene  will  be 
almost  an  old  maid  when  you  come  back ! " 
exclaimed  Toinette,  looking  quite  reproachful. 
"  Unless  .  .  .  unless  she  gets  married  while 
you  are  gadding  about,  M.  Maxime,"  she  added 
archly. 

"  Very  likely  I  shall  find  you  all  married  when 
I  come  again.  Even  you,  Toinette,  will  very 
likely  be  Madame  Mathieu,  eh  1  " 


118  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Leave  that  joke  to  M.  Jean,  who  is  never 
tired  of  teasing  me  ;  but  you  know  better,  M. 
Maxime.  .  .  .  Are  you  really  going  away  again 
—  like  that  ?  .  .  . "  And  she  lifted  up  the  cover 
of  a  pan  simmering  on  the  charcoal  fire  and 
closely  examined  its  contents  while  she  proceeded. 
"  Ma  foi  !  in  your  place,  I  should  not  have  gone 
first  !  " 

"  How  first  ?     What  do  you  mean,  Toinette  ?  " 

Then  Toinette  deliberately  came  very  close  to 
him  and  said  in  a  low  and  angry  voice :  "  No, 
I  would  not  go  before  V Anglais  if  I  were  you, 
voild  !"  and  she  winked  to  emphasize  her  meaning. 

Maxime  understood  her  perfectly.  "  Going  or 
staying  would  not  make  any  difference  in  this 
case,  Toinette.  So  good-bye ;  don't  forget  me  alto- 
gether." 

"  No  fear  of  that,  M.  Maxime,  nobody  is  likely 
to  forget  you  here.  But  before  you  go  I  may  say 
something  to  comfort  you,  because  I  know  you 
won't  laugh  at  it.  My  grandmother  has  taught 
me  a  prayer,  by  whose  virtue  la  Trh-Sainh  - 
Vicri/r-Murir  always  grants  you  what  you  ask 
for  if  you  repeat  it  every  day  of  your  life.  She 
herself  asked  to  know  when  she  should  die,  to  pre- 
pare  herself  for  it,  ami  sure  enough  she  knew  the 
very  day  ami  hour.  I  would  teach  it  to  you,  were 
it  not  that  I  was  made  to  swear  on  the  holy  cross, 
before  I  learned  it,  to  keep  it  secret  till  I  felt  near 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  119 

my  end.  But  as  I  was  so  happy,  I  did  not  know 
what  I  might  ask  for  jusqu'd  present,  therefore  I 
have  not  made  use  of  it;  but  now,  M.  Maxime, 
je  la  dirai  a  voire  intention." 

"Thank  you  very  much,  and  good-bye  again, 
Toinette,"  said  the  young  man,  well  knowing  all 
that  the  sympathetic  servant  had  implied  in  her 
speech. 

Taking  leave  of  Helene  was  more  difficult ; 
should  he  beg  to  speak  to  her  privately.  ...  Of 
what  use  could  it  be  to  tell  her  that  his  heart 
would  always  be  hers  ?  .  .  .  She  knew  it,  and  did 
not  care.  No,  it  would  be  better  to  be  on  his 
guard  against  his  own  weakness,  and  merely  to 
bid  a  general  farewell. 

He  did  so,  and  it  was  with  sorrowful  feelings 
that  every  one  in  M.  Mold's  house  saw  him  depart. 
Jean  guessed  the  truth,  but  said  nothing ;  his 
heart  was  heavy  about  his  friend's  prospects.  "  I 
wish  Helene  had  accepted  him,"  he  said  to  him- 
self; "there  is  not  a  better  fellow  in  the  world, 
or  one  who  deserves  her  more." 

Maxime's  departure  was  the  beginning  of  the 
separations  which  the  end  of  the  vacations  inevit- 
ably brings  round,  together  with  the  saddening 
influence  of  autumnal  days.  Whoever  has  lived 
long  in  the  country  takes  glad  notice  of  the  heav- 
ily laden  carriages  filing  past  along  the  dusty  sun- 
lit road  in  the  early  part  of  August,  with  their 


120  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

freight  of  merry  occupants,  often  perched  on  the 
top  of  their  numerous  boxes  and  packages  ;  every- 
one is  going  home  then !  It  is  the  beginning  of 
the  vacations.  But  with  what  different  feelings 
the  same  filing  past  of  the  same  people  in  the 
same  carriages  is  witnessed  two  months  later  in 
the  first  chill  of  misty  mornings  or  early  twi- 
lights !  The  faces  are  turned  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion and  all  the  mirth  is  spent,  the  eyes  are  swollen 
and  reddened,  and  no  gay  chattering  is  heard. 
Children  are  going  back  to  school,  men  to  toil  and 
business,  and  the  old  parents  in  the  country  are 
left  alone  for  another  year. 

M.  Mole"  had  at  last  promised  to  go  to  London 
with  Helene  in  the  spring  and  to  take  back  Olive. 
This  promise  had  reconciled  Pearce  with  the  neces- 
sity of  going  away  ;  the  more  so  as  he  left  behind 
an  ally  who  was  sure  to  talk  of  him  to  Helene, 
and  who  would  often  write  both  to  his  mother 
and  to  himself  and  let  them  know  all  that  might 
interest  them  about  the  inmates  of  the  family  with 
whom  she  was  going  to  live. 

Although  so  glad  to  1"'  lefi  with  Helene,  poor 
Olive  cried  a  good  deal  when  her  aunl  ami  cousin 
went  away.  Pearce  had  been  so  much  kinder  to 
her  lately  that  all  the  submissive  admiration  for 
him  had  returned,  and  she  almost  accused  herself 
of  ungratefulness.  .lean  felt  miserably  jealous, 
—  she  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  him  ;  and  he 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  121 

would  have  joined  Maxime  in  his  voyage  (he 
thought),  had  it  not  been  for  so  long  a  time.  His 
opinion  quite  changed,  however,  within  a  few  days, 
when,  Olive  having  recovered  from  the  sadness  of 
parting  from  her  friends,  and  being  her  merry  self 
again,  his  father  hinted  at  the  desirability  of 
resuming  his  studies. 

Meanwhile  Hdlene  was  left  in  some  perplexity. 
Pearce  had  not  disguised  how  reluctantly  he  went 
away  from  her ;  nay,  he  had  even  told  her  so  on 
the  day  before  be  left,  when  he  had  found  her  alone 
in  the  garden.  He  had  taken  hold  of  her  hand  and 
had  begged  her  not  to  forget  him  altogether.  She 
had  promised,  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  her  heart 
beating  quick  in  anticipation  of  what  was  to 
follow ;  but  nothing  followed.  He  pressed  her 
hand  to  thank  her,  let  it  drop,  and  returned  with 
her  to  the  house.  He  had  implied  that  he  loved 
her,  he  had  looked  as  if  he  did  ;  but  he  had  not 
told  her  so. 

And  now  Jean  had  to  pack  up  too ;  ho  must 
hasten  to  Paris  to  paint  his  picture  for  the  Salon. 
It  was  decided  that  he  should  come  back  to  Cham- 
pignol  to  spend  Christinas  and  New  Year's  Day; 
and  as  that  would  make  only  a  three  months' 
absence,  the  separation  was  not  very  painful. 

When  he  was  already  in  the  court-yard,  waiting 
for  the  omnibus  to  take  his  luggage,  he  turned 
towards  Toinette   to  say :    "  Be  sure    to   let   me 


122  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

know  when  your  mind  is  made  up,  Toinette ;  I 
want  to  dance  at  the  wedding." 

"  My  mind  is  sooner  made  up  than  some  peo- 
ple's, and,  what  is  more,  does  not  alter  when  it's 
made  up,  Monsieur  Jean.  I  daresay  there  may 
be  a  wedding  at  which  you  will  soon  dance ;  but 
it  won't  be  mine  ! "  And  she  laughed  heartily  to 
see  him  blush. 

"  Well,  I  am  sorry  to  think  Mathieu  has  such  a 
poor  chance,"  he  rejoined;  "but  I  hope  it's  not 
final." 

"How  can  you  think  I  should  tolerate  a  man 
always  in  my  way,  Monsieur  Jean  ?  .  .  .  No  ;  you 
are  the  only  one  that  I  allow  to  come  into  my 
kitchen,  —  and  yet  not  for  long,  although  I  have 
been  used  to  your  Mays  from  a  boy." 

The  omnibus  being  now  at  the  door,  Jean  kissed 
his  mother  and  sister  tenderly,  shook  hands  with 
Olive,  and  was  off  with  his  father. 

When  she  went  back  to  the  house,  Olive  was 
wiping  her  eyes  as  well  as  He'lene  and  Madame 
Mold.  The  fact  did  not  escape  Toinette,  who  liked 
her  the  better  for  it. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  123 


IX. 


The  ordinary  course  of  life  being  resumed  at  M. 
Mold's,  Olive  was  greatly  interested  by  her  new  ex- 
periences. She  declared  that  she  would  do  exactly 
as  Hdlene  did,  and  would  try  to  be  of  some  use 
in  the  house.  Accordingly,  she  made  for  herself 
a  simple,  pretty  peignoir  such  as  Hdlene  wore  in 
the  morning,  and  was  taught  the  mysteries  of 
sweeping  and  dusting.  It  amused  her  exceedingly 
to  go  to  market,  under  Toinette's  vigilant  eyes,  and 
learn  the  art  of  distinguishing  between  good  and 
mediocre  equality.  As  she  was  a  very  docile  pupil, 
Toinette  did  not  begrudge  her  instructions,  and 
confidently  said  that  Mademoiselle  Olive  learned 
everything  fast ;  that  she  would  soon  know  as 
much  as  herself,  —  except,  perhaps,  cooking,  which 
required  a  deal  of  practice. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  had  experience  of  va- 
rious kinds  in  your  life,  Toinette,"  once  asked 
Olive  when  they  were  coming  back  from  market 
together ;  "  you  must  have  lived  for  several  years 
with  Madame  Mold." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  have  been  with    her  almost  ever 


124  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

since  she  was  married.  I  was  then  twenty-four. 
It  was  a  different  house  from  what  you  see  it  now  ; 
Madame  was  as  merry  as  a  lark  then,  —  something 
like  you, — singing  all  day  long ;  and  so  pretty  too  ! 
You  would  not  think  so  now.  And  Monsieur  so 
fond  and  proud  of  his  young  wife !  They  gave 
little  dinner-parties,  —  that  was  in  Paris,  —  and 
very  great  people  came ;  and  they  all  said  that 
Madame  was  charming  and  her  dinners  excellent." 

"  No  doubt,"  remarked  Olive  ;  "  you  were  already 
her  cook." 

"  Yes  ;  hut  I  did  not  know  very  much,  because 
I  had  been  kept  very  tight  about  expenses  in  my 
previous  situation.  Still,  1  did  my  best,  and  soon 
improved ;  and  Madame's  parents  used  to  send 
wine,  poultry,  vegetables,  and  fruit  far  better  and 
fresher  than  what  is  got  in  the  Paris  markets." 

"  Did  you  like  Paris,  Toiuette  ? " 

"  Ah  !  pour  ea,  non  !  but  I  liked  my  master  and 
mistress,  and  I  was  obliged  to  bide  my  time.  The 
worst  was  thai  I  had  to  pay  so  dear  for  the  rent  of 
my  room  that  I  could  hardly  save  anything;  and 
yet  the  furniture  was  all  packed  up  on  the  top  of 
one  another." 

"How  was  it  that  you  had  furniture  of  your 
own?  I  should  so  much  like  to  hear  your  story. 
Did  you  not  live  in   Madame  Mold's  house?" 

"Oh,  yes!  but,  the  room  I  speak  of  was  for  my 
furniture,  that  which   my  former  master  left  me 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  125 

when  he  died.    I  had  been  eight  years  with  him,  — 
that  was  my  first  situation.     Since  it  would  interest 
you  to  know  my  story,  I  will  tell  it  you,  Made- 
moiselle, although  there  is  not  much  in  it.     When 
my  father  died  I  was  only  fourteen,  and  I  had  a 
brother  and  two  sisters  younger  than  myself,  and 
our  mother  had  been  dead  three  years  then.     I  did 
not  know  what  to  do  at  first,  with  no  money  and 
three  children  to  keep  besides  myself,  and  people 
advised  me  to  seek  for  a  situation ;  but  I  could 
not  abandon  the  children,  and  as  the  house  and 
garden  were  ours,  I  thought  at  least  they  could 
be  sheltered  and  fed.     My   brother  was  twelve, 
and^at  the  recommendation  of  M.  le  Cure'   he  was 
apprenticed    to  the  village  wheelwright   for   two 
years ;  we  were  not  to  pay  anything,  but  then  he 
would  have  to  get  his  food  at  home.    I  thought  that 
would  do  very  well.    My  sisters  were  twins  and 
only  ten,  and  nobody  would  take  them  before  they 
had  made  their  first  communion  ;  so  they  went  to 
their  catechism  and  school,  while  I  dug  the  garden 
(with  the  kind  help  of  some  neighbors)  for  pota- 
toes and  vegetables.     And  I  kept  a  gnat  for  milk 
and  our  hens  for  eggs;   and  it  would  have   been 
easy  enough  to  live  had  it  not  been  for  the  bread 
and  clothes.     To  get  that  we  had  first  to  sell  the 
cow,  then  the  furniture  went,  bit   by  bit;  but   I 
always  got  a  fair  price  for  it,  because  M.  le  Cure', 
who  knew  that  we  would  not  accept  charity,  man- 


126  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

aged  the  bargains  fur  me  and  told  the  buyers  that 
it  would  be  a  sinful  shame  to  pay  less  than  its 
value  to  poor  orphans  in  great  need.  I  could  not 
earn  any  money  by  work,  for  I  had  plenty  to  do, 
both  early  and  late,  to  keep  the  children  decent 
and  prepare  their  meals,  and  to  dig  and  plant  and 
water  the  garden. 

"  At  last,  when  my  sisters  were  twelve  years  old, 
I  put  them  with  a  seamstress  to  learn  dress-mak- 
ing ;  and  as  they  were  fed,  I  agreed  to  pay  three 
hundred  francs  a  year  for  two  years,  after  which 
they  would  earn  enough  for  their  keep,  and  a  little 
over.  As  my  brother  was  now  doing  for  himself, 
I  let  the  house  and  garden  for  two  hundred  francs 
a  year,  and  went  as  a  servant  to  scrape  together 
the  other  hundred  that  I  had  to  give  for  my 
sisters.  I  should  have  had  two  hundred  francs 
wages;  but  as  my  sisters  came  to  see  me  once  a 
month,  and  my  brother  occasionally,  and  as  my 
mistress  allowed  them  to  dine  with  me  when  they 
came,  she  told  me  that  1  should  only  receive  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  francs  :  that  was  fair." 

"  I  think  it  was  very  shabby  !  "  exclaimed  Olive 
indignantly. 

"Oh,  no  !  they  were  not  shabby,  but  very  eco- 
nomical  people.  1  could  tell  you  a  little  story 
about  that,  —  but  I  must  have  wearied  you  by  this 
time." 

"Oh,  pray  goon,  1  am  so  much  interested!    I 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  127 

had  no  idea  that  it  was  possible  to  live  upon  so 
little." 

"When  you  can't  get  more,  you  have  to  do 
it,"  philosophically  remarked  Toinette,  "  although 
a  little  more  would  have  been  welcome ;  but, 
Dieio  merci  !  we  all  had  good  health  and  plenty  of 
courage." 

"  Don't  forget  your  story,  Toinette." 

"  Well,  my  master  and  mistress  had  no  children, 
and  they  were  sometimes  visited  by  their  nephews 
and  nieces ;  and  once  I  happened  to  be  kneading 
dough  when  Mademoiselle  Elise,  a  young  niece  of 
Madame,  came  into  the  kitchen.  '  Oh  !  Toinette,' 
she  said  to  me,  '  I  hope  you  '11  make  me  a  galette 
at  the  same  time.'  1  asked  my  mistress's  permis- 
sion, and  she  gave  it.  At  dejeuner,  Mademoiselle 
£lise  kept  saying :  '  Aunt,  how  good  this  galette 
is  !  please,  give  me  a  little  more.'  In  the  afternoon 
my  mistress  told  me  to  show  her  the  pot  in  which 
the  provision  of  melted  butter  was  kept ;  after 
looking  inside  she  said  :  '  Toinette,  you  have  made 
a  galette  once ;  but  no  other  galette  shall  ever  be 
made  in  this  house.'  " 

"  Oh,  Toinette !  .  .  .  and  you  say  she  was  not 
stingy  ?" 

"  No,  Mademoiselle,  she  was  not,  for  she  never 
denied  what  was  necessary ;  but  she  was  very 
economical,  and  a  very  good  thing  it  was  for  me 
to  be  taught  by  her  at  first.     And  when  she  died 


128  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

{que  Dim  ait  son  dmc  !)  she  did  not  forget  me ;  she 
left  me  a  hundred  and  fifty  francs  a  year,  and 
my  master  did  the  same,  and  added  to  it  the  fur- 
niture of  his  own  bedroom  and  his  umbrella." 

"And  yon  have  kept  the  furniture  all  this 
time  ? " 

"  Yes,  Mademoiselle,  and  very  handsome  it  is ; 
all  noyer  cire.  I  will  show  it  to  you,  if  you  like  ; 
it  is  in  my  room  now :  we  have  more  space  than 
in  Paris." 

"It  must  have  cost  you  almost  as  much  as  it  is 
worth  if  you  have  had  to  send  it  to  Paris,  to  rent 
a  room,  and  to  get  it  here  again." 

"  That  may  be ;  but  I  was  not  the  one  to  part 
with  it,  and  it  has  turned  useful  at  last.  ...  It's 
not  like  the  umbrella,  which  is  so  big  that  I  dare 
not  use  it ;  all  the  gamins  would  cry  after  me.  It 's 
a  pity,  too,  for  I  have  had  it  covered  again,  and  it 
has  cost  me  twenty-eight  francs." 

"You  got  it  covered  again  out  of  respect  for 
your  late  master,  then  ?  " 

"Yes;  ;mdas  it's  never  used,  it  will  keep  de- 
cent till  after  my  death.  I  dust  and  shake  it  often. 
I  should  not  have  liked  anybody  to  find  it  after 
me  uncared  for,  and  with  my  master's  name  upon 
it  too." 

Olive  marvelled  at  the  contrast  between  the 
easy  familiarity  of  Toinette  with  her  masters,  ami 
het  respectful   devotion;  how  different  from  the 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  129 

obsequious  humility  and   utter  uuconcern  of  the 
servants  she  had  known  hitherto! 

Apart  from  her  domestic  instruction,  Olive 
studied  French  and  music  in  earnest  under  Hd- 
lene's  directions.  Both  girls  worked  very  seri- 
ously, feeling,  perhaps,  that  work  was  the  only 
antidote  to  a  lurking  sense  of  dulness  which  made 
itself  felt  at  times,  in  spite  of  all  their  efforts  to 
ignore  it.  Olive  had  no  idea  of  such  a  life.  She 
1aad  been  accustomed  to  a  metropolis,  to  a  great 
deal  of  company  and  sight-seeing;  and  she  had  not 
imagined  how  much  of  the  cheerfulness  of  M. 
Mold's  house  was  due  to  the  presence  of  Jean, 
to  his  never-tiring  flow  of  spirits,  to  the  peculiar 
gayety  of  his  disposition.  Hdlene  and  her  father, 
though  quietly  cheerful,  had  not  the  gift  possessed 
by  Jean  of  tickling  other  people's  fancies,  of  awak- 
ening laughter,  of  presenting  things  under  original 
aspects.  Madame  Mold  was  not  seen  much  in  her 
house,  she  was  so  often  at  church  ;  and  even  when 
at  home,  her  mind  'wandered  a  way  so  frequently 
that  a  sustained  conversation  was  very  difficult. 
And  then  her  views  were  so  melancholy  !  .  .  .  The 
onlv  distractions  were  the  Long  walks  with  M. 
Mold,  and  some  occasional  visitors.  Among  thi  ra 
the  Marquis  de  Civray  seemed  the  most  remark- 
able to  Olive,  and  she  began  to  suspect  from  his 
frequent  calls  and  presents  of  fruit  and  flowers 
that  there  was  some  powerful  attraction  for  him 

9 


130  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

in  M.  Mold's  house.  He  never  stayed  very  long 
when  he  came.  After  a  short  private  conference 
with  M.  Mold  he  paid  his  visit  to  the  ladies,  did 
not  say  much,  hut  lingered  as  if  he  wished  to  say 
something. 

It  occurred  to  Olive  that  she  was  perhaps  in 
the  way,  that  M.  de  Civray  might  have  something 
to  communicate  relating  to  his  family,  and  that 
he  did  not  wish  to  take  a  stranger  into  his  con- 
fidence ;  accordingly,  the  next  time  he  came  she 
withdrew  after  the  first  greetings.  But  Helene 
begged  her  not  to  do  so  again,  as  M.  de  Civray 
had  nothing  particular  to  say,  she  affirmed  ;  upon 
which  Olive  shook  her  head  and  remarked  tbat 
she  was  not  so  sure  of  that.  "  He  seems  altered 
for  the  worse  every  time  he  comes,"  she  pursued ; 
"  his  beautiful  white  hands  show  their  blue  veins 
as  if  there  was  no  flesh  in  them,  and  his  eyes  grow 
darker,  and  sink  more  and  more  !  Did  you  notice, 
Hdlene,  that  he  has  now  a  tendency  to  stoop  when 
he  does  not  think  about  holding  himself  up  ?  and 
when  he  thinks  of  it,  he  starts  and  stands  erect 
suddenly,  with  a  visible  effort." 

"I  did  notice  it,"  answered  Bdleue  sadly;  "I 
am  afraid  he  is  seriously  ill  or  anxious." 

Jean's  letters  always  brought  with  them  a  little 
of  the  warmth  and  sunshine  possessed  by  their 
writer.  Now  one  came  full  of  hope  about  his 
picture  ;  he  was  sure  it  deserved  a  medal,  and  it 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  131 

would  he  scandalous  not  to  give  him  one.  An- 
other contained  amusing  details  about  his  models, 
especially  one  of  them,  a  splendid  and  stupid  crea- 
ture whose  specialite  was  to  shed  tears  —  the  most 
beautiful  tears  in  the  world  —  at  will.  She  was 
very  precious  to  him  just  now,  as  Jephtha's  daugh- 
ter. He  had  only  to  say,  "  Mademoiselle,  je  desire 
e*tudier  les  larmes,"  to  see  her  raise  her  superb  eyes 
to  heaven,  and  then  large,  pearl-like  drops  formed 
near  the  lower  eyelid,  without  the  least  diminution 
of  the  eye's  lustre,  and  slowly  rolled  down  her  placid 
cheeks  in  perfect  pear-like  shape.  And  when  lie 
said,  "Merci,  Mademoiselle,  c'est  assez!"  she  do- 
cilely wiped  the  last  tear,  and  not  another  came; 
there  was  no  waste.  ...  At  other  times  he  was 
almost  broken-hearted ;  his  picture  was  the  worst 
rubbish  ever  painted  ;  he  was  a  fool  and  a  madman 
ever  to  have  fancied  himself  an  artist;  and  in  or- 
der not  to  commit  suicide,  he  went  to  see  all  the 
new  plays,  of  which  he  gave  the  most  humorous 
descriptions,  he  danced  fantastic  cotillons,  and  sent 
charades  to  the  "  Figaro  : "  that  was  his  way  of 
getting  out  of  a  fit  of  the  "blues."  But  whatever 
else  he  said,  he  hardly  ever  missed  a  reference  to 
his  Christinas  visit;  and  when  the  time  came,  it 
was  Olive's  turn  to  show  Toinette  how  to  make 
plum-pudding  and  mince-pies,  and  to  decorate  the 
house  with  holly  and  evergreens. 

When  the  family  went  to  midnight  Mass  they 


132  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

had  seats  reserved  in  the  organ-loft,  because  Hd- 
leue  would  sing.  Olive  was  deeply  moved  at  the 
sight  of  the  long  dim  nave  beneath  her  filled  with 
a  crowd  of  worshippers  humbly  prosterned  before 
the  Infant  Redeemer.  At  the  communion  every 
one,  according  to  the  old  custom  of  Champignol, 
knelt  on  the  bare  stone  of  the  ancient  cathedral, 
the  women  wrapped  in  long  muslin  veils  and  hold- 
ing the  small  lighted  tapers  which  had  myste- 
riously revealed  their  procession  when  they  came 
back  from  the  communion-table  through  the  som- 
bre,  deserted  aisles.  Then  the  organ  rolled  its 
waves  of  harmony  under  the  lofty  arches  of  the 
vault,  and  subdued  them  again  to  sustain  the  melo- 
dious voice  which  now  sang  :  — 

"Minuit,  Chretien,  c'est  l'heure  solennelle 
Ou  l'Homme-Dieu  descendifc  jusqu'k  nous 
Pour  dlarcr  la  tarlic  oriyi nolle 
Et  de  son  Pere  arreter  le  courroux. 
Le  monde  entier  tressaille  d'esperance 
A  cette  nuit  qui  lui  donne  mi  Sauveur. 
Peuple;  a  genoux,  attends  ta  delivrance, 
Noel,  Noel,  void  le  R6dempteurl" 

And  the  priests  near  the  altar  and  every  one  in 
the  nave  joined  in  the  magnificent  chorus, — 
"Noel,  Noel,  void  Le  Re'dempteur ! " 

"  1  v  uoi  re  1'oi,  i[u<:  la  lumiere  ardente, 
Nous  guide  tona  an  berceau  de  1'enfant, 
Comme  autrefois  une  etoile  brillante 
Y  conduisit  los  chefs  do  1' Orient. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  133 

Le  Roi  cles  Rois  nait  dans  une  humble  creche, 
Puissants  du  jour,  fiers  de  votre  grandeur, 
A  votre  orgueil  c'est  de  la  cru'un  Dieu  preehe, 
Courbez  vos  fronts  devant  le  Redempteur  ! 

"  Le  Redempteur  a  brise  toute  entrave, 
La  terre  est  libre,  et  le  ciel  est  ouvert  ; 
II  voit  mi  frere  oil  n'etait  qu'un  esclave, 
L'amour  unit  ceux  qu'enchainait  le  fer. 
Qui  lui  dira  notre  reconnaissance  ? 
C'est  pour  nous  tous,  cpi'il  nait,  qu'il  souffre  et  meurt. 
Peuple  debout,  chante  ta  delivrance, 
Noel,  Noel,  chantons  le  Redempteur !  " 

The  ceremony  is  over;  there  is  a  clatter  of 
sabots  and  galoches  on  the  porch,  and  long  lines  of 
muffled-up  people  are  vaguely  seen  by  the  flicker- 
ing- light  of  their  lanterns  hastening  home, —  some 
to  a  quiet  bed,  some  to  a  merry  revcillon. 

"  Good  night,  Madame  Mold,  how  are  you  ? " 
asks  M.  de  Civray,  bare-headed,  at  the  church-door. 
"  I  wish  to  thank  Mademoiselle  Helene  for  the 
great  pleasure  she  gave  us  all  to-night."  Then, 
as  He'lene  bowed,  lie  added:  "Very  few  eyes 
remained  dry  while  you  sang  that  beautiful 
Noel." 

"I  suppose  most  people   feel  the   influence  <>f 
good  music,"  answered  Helene,  "  though   few  are 
as   sensitive  as  you.      But  pray,   Monsieur,  cover 
your  head,  the  wind  is  icy  cold." 

"You  don't  go  back  to  the  chateau  to-night,  M. 
de  Civray  ?  "  asked  Jean. 


134  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Oh  !  no  ;  I  stop  at  the  hotel.  I  only  came 
down  to  hear  your  sister  sing  at  Mass." 

A  sudden  impulse  prompted  Jean  to  say : 
"  Will  you  come  and  share  our  little  reveillon, 
Monsieur  ?  At  any  rate  there  will  be  a  good  lire 
to  warm  us,  and  we  need  it."  He  had  thought  of 
the  dull,  sad  life  at  the  chateau,  and  pitied  the 
owner;  a  little  of  the  healthy  cheerfulness  of 
youth  would  do  him  good. 

"  It  will  be  with  the  greatest  pleasure,"  answered 
the  Marquis,  who  offered  his  arm  to  Helene  to 
walk  lio me. 

Olive  and  Jean  were  in  front,  while  H^lene 
kept  close  to  her  father  and  mother,  so  that  they 
all  talked  together  on  the  way. 

They  soon  reached  the  house,  and  had  scarcely 
got  to  the  entrance,  when  Olive  was  heard  to 
scream  and  Toinette  to  laugh  heartily.  The  Mar- 
quis and  Hdlene  stopped,  wondering  at  the  sight 
of  Jean  deliberately  kissing  Olive,  who  struggled 
to  escape. 

"I  have  not  yet  forgotten  English  customs," 
Jean  was  saying.  "Miss  Olive,  I  caught  you 
under  the  mistletoe  !  " 

"That  is  not  fair  1 "  fried  Olive,  covered  with 
the  prettiest  blushes.  "  I  did  not  know  there  was 
any  in  the  house;"  and  she  hurried  upstaira 

As  Madame  Mnlr  Looked  seriously  shucked, 
Jean    explained    that    in    England    when   a  lady 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  135 

passed  under  a  sprig  of  mistletoe  she  became  lia- 
ble to  be  kissed.  Toinette,  to  whom  the  secret 
was  confided,  had  placed  some  of  it  according 
to  his  directions  during  their  absence,  and  had 
watched  the  result. 

They  all  laughed  merrily  when  Olive  came 
down  again,  somewhat  shamefaced,  and  darted 
into  the  room  like  an  arrow,  for  fear  of  another 
surprise. 

The  presence  of  the  Marquis  did  not  in 
the  least  damp  Jean's  gayety,  and  this  gayety 
proved  so  communicative  that  every  one  joined 
in  it. 

The  pdte-de-foies,  the  tarts,  and  the  hot  chest- 
nuts disappeared  among  repeated  peals  of  laugh- 
ter. Toasts  were  proposed  and  responded  to,  and 
even  Madame  Mold,  who  never  tasted  wine,  was 
compelled  to  put  her  lips  to  a  glass  of  champagne 
when  her  health  was  drunk.  There  was  no  resist- 
ing her  son's  entrain.  M.  de  Civray  himself  gave 
way,  and  enjoyed  fully  the  pleasant  sensation  of 
mirthful  excitement;  his  usual  gravity  melted 
under  the  influence  of  Jean's  fun  and  frolics  to 
such  a  point  that  while  taking  his  leave  he  no- 
ticed that  HeTene,  who  held  open  the  dining-room 
door  for  him,  was  standing  under  the  mistletoe. 
Making  good  the  opportunity,  lie  seized  her  hand 
and  kissed  it  respectfully,  saying  afterwards:  "I 
hope  I  may  be  excused  for  yielding  partially  to 


136  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

such  a  temptation,  Mademoiselle  ;  your  brother  is 
responsible  for  it." 

When  he  was  gone  Olive  reproachfully  said  to 
Jean  :  "  You  see  how  much  better  behaved  than 
you  M.  de  Civray  is ;  he  contented  himself  with 
kissing  Hedene's  fingers." 

"  Because  lie  had  not  the  pluck  to  kiss  her 
cheek  !  "  laughed  Jean.  "  I  have  chosen  the  best 
part,  and  it  shall  not  be  taken  from  me." 

On  New  Year's  Day  Olive,  proud  of  her  recently 
acquired  culinary  skill,  had  prepared,  under  Toi- 
nette's  supervision,  some  pigeons  d  la  crapaudine, 
which  were  found  excellent,  and  brought  her  a 
great  deal  of  praise ;  but  Jean,  who  never  missed 
an  opportunity  for  teasing  her,  promised  never  to 
breathe  a  word  of  it  when  he  wrote  to  Pearce. 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  care  what  he  thinks  about  it,"  she 
answered  petulantly.  "  I  know  I  am  right  to  learn 
while  I  can,  and  the  time  is  but  short ;  when  I  go 
back  to  my  aunt  the  kitchen  will  be  tabooed  to 
me." 

"How  do  people  manage  in  England  when  they 
are  not  rich,  I  wonder?"  asked  Madame  .Mole. 

"Oh!  I  can  tell  you;  they  spend  a  great  deal 
more  than  they  ought  to  do,  it'  they  dared  to  lie 
reasonable.  Now,  for  instance,  my  cousin  Henry 
has  no  fortune,  and  spends  everything  he  earns. 
He  is  so  generous  to  me  that  he  won't  hear  of 
my   contributing  to  the   household  expenses  ;  he 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  137 

only  allows  me  to  pay  for  my  clothes.  He  says  I 
shall  be  glad  to  find  some  day  the  little  I  have, 
and  that  my  presence  makes  no  difference.  He 
makes  a  regular  allowance  of  three  hundred  pounds 
a  year  to  his  mother,  and  is  always  obliged  to  add 
more  or  less  at  the  end ;  for  my  aunt,  with  all  her 
endearing  qualities,  is  not  a  good  manager.  You 
must  have  noticed  how  easily  embarrassed  she  is. 
Sometimes  she  says  to  me :  '  Eeally,  Olive,  we 
spend  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  yet  I  cannot  see 
that  we  are  in  the  least  extravagant ;  it  seems 
impossible  to  do  with  less.'  I  answer  that  the 
only  extravagance  is  in  keeping  two  maids.  But 
she  maintains  that  her  position  requires  at  least 
two ;  and  besides,  Henry  wishes  things  to  be 
decent  when  he  comes,  and  occasionally  brings 
a  friend  with  him." 

"  But  supposing  the  case  of  your  cousin's  ill- 
ness, your  aunt  would  be  placed  in  a  very  difficult 
position,"  remarked  Madame  Mold 

"Oh!  I  have  often  thought  of  it,"  answered 
Olive,  with  great  concern;  "  and  I  dare  not  think 
of  the  possibility  of  his  death;  ...  Of  course  I 
can't  speak  of  it  to  my  poor  aunt,  but  I  can't  help 
being  very  anxious  at  times.  If  Henry  were 
taken  ill,  my  small  fortune  might  tide  us  on  to 
his  recovery,  provided  it  were  n<>t  a  protracted 
illness;  that  is  a  little  comfort." 

"You  kind-hearted  little  dear:"   said  Madame 


138  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

Mold,  giving  her  a  kiss.  "  And  what  would  you 
do  when  your  little  fortune  was  gone  ?" 

"  Oh  !  Henry  would  keep  me  again  if  he  could, 
I  have  no  doubt ;  else  I  should  try  to  find  some 
kind  of  employment." 

"  It  must  seem  harder  to  be  in  reduced  circum- 
stances after  living  in  luxury,"  said  M.  Mold. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Olive ;  "  and  now  I  see  that 
the  worst  of  it  is  this  :  people  never  think  they 
live  in  luxury ;  they  fancy,  as  my  aunt  does,  that 
it  is  all  necessary,  having  always  been  accustomed 
to  it." 

"  It  must  require  very  large  incomes  to  provide 
adequately  for  the  children  in  England,"  continued 
M.  Mold. 

"  Well,  I  am  afraid  there  is  not  much  provision 
made  for  them  in  many  cases.  Some  of  my 
friends  told  me,  on  the  point  of  marrying,  that 
they  really  did  not  know  how  to  set  up  house, 
their  parents  being  unable  to  give  them  anything, 
or  what  would  prove  quite  insufficient,  —  and  that 
after  being  brought  up  in  great  comfort.  Some  of 
them  bad  to  live  in  lodgings  until  they  were  able 
to  furnish  their  house ;  some  accepted  invitations 
from  their  friends,  ami  remained  as  long  as  possi- 
ble, to  spare  their  own  purse  in  order  to  buy  the 
first  necessaries.  I  daresay  it  sounds  very  shock- 
ing to  French  ears." 

"  I  do  think  it  a  lamentable  system,"  answered 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  139 

M.  Mole\  "And  now  I  do  not  wonder  at  Mr. 
Pearce  considering  marriage  almost  an  impossi- 
bility." 

"  Oh  !  all  young  Englishmen  say  so  till  they  are 
in  love,"  said  Olive  with  a  light  laugh,  "  and  then 
they  shut  their  eyes  and  take  the  leap.  I  must 
say  that  they  often  repine  afterwards,  but  just  go 
on  like  everybody  else.  I  have  known  two  Eng- 
lishmen, —  a  barrister  and  a  doctor,  —  earning  two 
thousand  pounds  a  year  each,  and  never  putting 
anything  by.  I  heard  them  say  it  was  dreadful 
to  think  what  would  become  of  their  wives  and 
children  if  they  were  to  die  suddenly ;  but  they 
could  not  put  a  stop  to  any  of  the  running 
expenses." 

"At  any  rate,  my  little  Olive,  your  eyes  are 
open,  and  you  will  not  fall  into  the  same  errors," 
said  Madame  Mole'. 

"  Wiser  heads  than  mine  have  found  it  impossi- 
ble to  resist  the  tyranny  of  public  opinion  ;  a  good 
many  English  people  go  to  live  abroad  now  to 
escape  from  it." 

"  Then  when  you  are  married  you  must  per- 
suade your  husband  that  it  is  possible  to  live  in 
France  with  less  than  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year, 
and  bring  him  to  settle  near  us." 

"Oh!  Olive  would  not  like  to  live  always  in 
France.  It  must  be  hard,  T  think,  to  abandon 
one's  country,"  remarked  Hellene. 


140  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  I  suppose  it  must  be,"  answered  Olive.  "  But 
now  I  should  think  it  unbearable  to  be  told  that  I 
was  never  to  come  to  France  again.  I  feel  half 
English  and  half  French." 

"  It  makes  a  very  nice  mixture,  I  am  sure," 
said  Jean. 

"  Henry  is  quite  right  when  he  says  that  you 
can't  be  serious  for  long  ! "  remonstrated  Olive. 

"  But  I  am  quite  serious  now,  and  to  prove  it,  I 
intend  to  earn  a  great  deal  of  money  and  to  be 
very  economical.  .  .  .  Will  that  convince  you  ?  " 

"When  I  see  it,  perhaps  !" 

They  were  interrupted  by  Toinette  bringing  a 
parcel  and  the  card  of  M.  le  Marquis  Hector  de 
Civray  de  Champignol.  It  was  addressed  to  Ma- 
dame Mold,  and  contained  a  pretty  Japanese  box 
of  chocolats-d-la-creme  for  herself,  and  two  lovely 
baskets  of  bonbons  for  the  girls.  Olive  was  de- 
lighted ;  would  it  not  give  her  a  certain  impor- 
tance in  the  eyes  of  her  cousin  and  aunt  to  hear 
that  a  Marquis  had  sent  her  a  present  with  his 
respectueux  Iwrnmagcs?  Sin;  immediately  wrote  to 
Mrs.  Pearce  and  artfully  inserted  her  news  in  a 
little  innocent-looking  paragraph,  devoid  of  reflec- 
tion or  comment,  to  make  it  appear  as  it'  she  were 
quite  accustomed  to  such  things,  and  considered 
them  as  a  matter  of  course. 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  1-tl 


X. 


New  Year's  Day  was  kept  as  a  fete  at  the  Cha- 
teau de  Champignol,  as  in  every  other  French 
house.  Good  wishes  were  exchanged,  presents 
•offered,  gratuities  distributed  to  the  servants  and 
to  all  the  needy  who  came  as  far  as  the  chateau. 
But  instead  of  the  gifts  being  given  by  Madame  la 
Marquise,  they  were  this  year  handed  to  every 
receiver  by  the  Marquis,  his  mother  being  un- 
well. With  their  thanks  the  domestics  wished 
their  master  "  une  bonne  annde  ;  une  parfaite  sante*, 
et  le  Paradis  a  la  fin  de  ses  jours,"  and  begged 
that  the  same  wish  might  be  conveyed  to  their 
mistress. 

Madame  de  Civray  had  been  ailing  for  some 
time;  she  was  now  better,  but  not  yet  strong 
enough  to  leave  her  apartment,  and  she  received 
her  son  in  her  private  boudoir  when  he  came  to 
wish  her  a  happy  New  Year,  lie  had  brought 
her  as  li is  present  a  magnificent  piece  of  old  lace. 
It  had  been  waited  for,  and  at  last  secured  fur  the 
Marquis  by  an  expert,  who  knew  that  it  would  be 
worth  his  trouble  to  get  it  at  any  cost. 


142  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

"This  is  truly  superb!"  exclaimed  Madame 
de  Civray,  spreading  the  lace  on  a  dark  velvet 
cushion  to  see  all  the  details  of  the  design  ;  "  the 
variety  of  stitches  is  prodigious,  and  the  point  per- 
fect. It  is  a  treasure  to  add  to  my  collection  of 
old  laces.  ...  Sit  down,  Hector,  and  don't  get 
impatient  if  I  ask  you  again  when  it  is  that  I  may 
adorn  a  younger  woman  than  myself  with  my 
jewels  and  laces  ?  Everybody  oilers  wishes  to- 
day ;  mine  for  you,  for  our  house,  and  our  name,  is 
a  Marquise  de  Champignol  worthy  of  the  position  ■ 
you  can  give  her." 

"It  is  difficult  to  find  such  a  one." 

"  But  not  impossible.  AVill  you  let  me  seek, 
and  I  promise  you  that  it  will  not  be  in 
vain." 

"  You  know  that  I  have  no  wish  to  marry." 

"You  tell  me  so  year  after  year,  and  perhaps 
you  think  so.  But  it  can't  be  that  you  desire  to 
live  always  alone,  childless  !  Think  what  a  dif- 
ference your  marriage  would  make  here  !  .  .  .  I 
know,  I  feel,  how  dull,  how  joyless  your  existence 
is  now." 

"  I  don't  complain." 

"  No,  you  do  not.  But  would  you  not  be  cheered 
by  the  presence  and  affection  of  a  young  wife  ? 
She  would  bring  her  friends  here,  and  the  chateau 
would  be  no  longer  silent  and  deserted.  You 
would  go  with  her  among  your  equals,  and  take 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  143 

your  proper  place  in  the  world  as  the  head  of  one 
of  the  most  noble  families  of  France." 

"  I  can  only  repeat  that  I  have  not  the  slightest 
desire  for  a  change  of  existence.  I  assure  you  1 
am  tolerably  happy,  —  as  happy,  I  believe,  as  most 
people ;  and  I  beg  you  not  to  distress  yourself 
about  me."  He  got  up,  kissed  his  mother's  fore- 
head as  if  he  were  leaving  her.  But  she  got  up 
too.  Taking  hold  of  his  hands  and  looking  gravely 
into  his  eyes,  she  said,  — 

"  Don't  go  away  yet ;  I  see  that  I  must  speak 
seriously.  I  have  told  you  hitherto  that  I  thought 
a  marriage  desirable  for  you,  and  you  have  treated 
the  matter  lightly.  I  say  now  that  it  is  your  duty 
to  marry." 

"  I  cannot  see  that,  and  I  do  not  acknowledge 
the  duty,"  he  answered  firmly. 

"  But  you  must  acknowledge  it,  and  you  must 
fulfil  it !  ...  Is  our  house,  founded  more  than 
six  centuries  ago,  to  perish  with  you,  under  my 
eyes  ?  .  .  . " 

"  My  health,  bodily  and  mental,  is  not  in  such  a 
satisfactory  state  as  to  prompt  me  to  marry,"  he 
answered  sadly.  "Be  sure  that  my  reasons  for 
remaining  single  are  only  too  weighty." 

'Your  bodily  strength  allows  you  to  lead  the 
ordinary  life  of  a  nobleman,  my  dear  Hector.  It 
may  be  that  you  should  wish  to  be  stronger  :  but 
whoever  is  satisfied  with  his  health  ?  ...  As  to 


144  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

your  mental  state,  you  refuse  to  improve  it ;  every 
one  would  become  an  easy  prey  to  melancholy 
fancies  who  secluded  himself  as  you  have  done  of 
late.     Your  reasons  are  groundless." 

Madame  de  Champignol  had  so  placed  herself 
that  she  stood  between  her  son  and  the  door.  He 
saw  that  no  exit  was  left  him,  and  his  brow  dark- 
ened and  his  lips  quivered  with  suppressed  anger, 
but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Hector,"  continued  his  mother,  "  must  I  again 
insist  upon  your  duty  ?  .  .  .  You  answer  me  now 
that  your  health  is  not  satisfactory,  and  later,  if  I 
live,  you  will  say  that  you  are  no  longer  young 
enough.  I  do  not  accept  these  answers.  If  you 
have  a  plausible  one,  give  it  me  ;  otherwise  I  must 
and  I  will  show  you  that  you  have  no  right  to  put 
an  end  to  your  glorious  race."  Her  accent  was 
dignified  and  persuasive;  but  the  features  of  the 
Marquis  did  not  relax. 

"  Do  not  ask  me  for  the  real  reason,  ma  mere : 
you  know  it,  and  it  is  better  to  avoid  painful 
subjects." 

"But  I  demand  to  know  this  reason;  it  may 
not  be  so  potent  as  you  imagine."  Then  she  sat 
in  her  armchair  upright,  as  if  prepared  to  meet 
the  worst. 

"Remember  that  you  force  me  to  speak,"  slowly 
said  the  Marquis,  "and  that  I  wished  to  spare 
you."     As  she  made  no  sign  and  did  not  speak,  he 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  145 

proceeded  faster  and  lower :  "  The  reason  why  I 
won't  marry  is  this :  I  think  it  is  far  better  that 
our  name  and  our  house  should  perish  than  be 
continued  as  they  are  now  by  poor  victims  of  aris- 
tocratic pride.  Why  should  I  inflict  upon  inno- 
cent children  the  infirmities  of  our  great  house  ? 
Why  perpetuate  the  shameful  imbecility  which 
has  been  sent  as  a  portent  to  our  ancient  race, 
now  drained  of  its  generous  sap  ?  .  .  .  Let  it  per- 
ish before  its  degradation  becomes  the  natural 
heirloom  of  its  descendants,  before  the  present 
misery  effaces  the  glorious  past."  He  was  now 
strongly  excited  and  extremely  pale. 

"  You,  at  least,  have  no  right  to  speak  in  this 
manner,  Hector,  you  who  escaped  !  You  ought  to 
be  thankful,  instead  of  rebellious." 

"Thankful!  .  .  .  thankful  for  an  enfeebled  body, 
and  perhaps  worse  than  enfeebled  mind  !  Non,  ma 
mere,  I  am  not  thankful;  I  wish  I  had  never  been 
born." 

"  You  accuse  me,  then,"  sobbed  Madame  de  Civ- 
ray.  "  Oh  !  this  is  cruel !  .  .  .  "  and  she  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands. 

"  I  deeply  regret  to  have  been  driven  to  it.  I 
do  not  accuse  you ;  I  merely  state  a  hard  fact,  and 
I  hope  I  am  not  unjust." 

"But  you  are  unjust,  most  unjust!"  passion- 
ately retorted  Madame  de  Civray.  "  Can  you  for 
a  moment  suppose  that  T  chose  the  kind  of  life  I 

10 


146  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

have  had  out  of  selfish  motives  ?  I  was  young, 
handsome,  and  of  noble  lineage  when  I  married 
your  father,  who  was  deaf  and  dumb.  Do  you 
think  the  prospect  was  alluring,  and  that  I  ex- 
pected perfect  happiness  ? " 

"  No  ;  and  I  have  always  wondered  what  decided 

you." 

"  Duty !  .  .  .  My  family,  though  noble,  was 
poor,  and  we  were  several  children.  How  could 
they  keep  their  rank  in  the  world  ?  Being  the 
eldest,  I  was  bound  to  help  them.  I  would  not 
stoop  to  anything  that  was  not  perfectly  honorable, 
and  when  the  Marquis  de  Civray  proposed,  I  saw 
that  by  sacrificing  myself  I  might  be  the  means  of 
raising  the  fortune  of  my  own  family  and  of  res- 
cuing from  a  dire  calamity  that  which  sought  my 
alliance.  And  if  I  did  not  succeed  entirely,  at 
least  I  thought  my  sacrifice  well  rewarded  when 
my  sisters  and  brothers  resumed  the  position 
to  which  their  name  entitled  them,  and  when  your 
father  blessed  me  out  of  gratitude  at  your  birth." 

"  I  know  how  grateful  my  father  was  for  your 
abnegation ;  and  believe  me,  all  your  children  feel 
the  same  towards  you." 

"  I  trust  it  is  so.  But  my  task  is  not  over,  and 
I  have  to  convince  you  that  your  fears  for  the 
future  of  your  children  are  mere  phantoms.  Why 
should  they  be  infirm  if  both  their  parents  are 
healthy?  ..." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  147 

"Surely  you  are  aware  that  heredity  is  often 
traced  further  off." 

"  Then  nobody  would  dare  to  marry,  according 
to  such  a  theory,  for  fear  of  the  past.  .  .  .  We  will 
find  a  girl  whose  health  may  bear  the  most  minute 
scrutiny." 

"  Where  can  we  find  such  a  girl  willing  to  risk 
such  fearful  odds  for  her  children,  and  willing  to 
accept  such  a  life  as  we  can  offer  here  ?  You 
know  me  too  well  to  think  that  I  should  abandon 
my  sisters  and  brothers  to  their  loneliness." 

"  I  repeat,  give  me  leave  to  seek,  and  I  shall  find. 
We  do  not  ask  fur  any  fortune,  our  house  is  suffi- 
ciently wealthy ;  and  I  think  any  girl  might  be 
proud  of  the  name  you  have  to  offer.  There  are 
not  wanting  in  the  aristocracy  noble  and  ruined 
families  who  would  be  very  happy  to  secure  such 
an  establishment  for  their  daughters." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  that  my  wife  could  not  be 
chosen  out  of  the  aristocracy  ?  "  asked  the  Mar- 
quis in  a  light,  sardonic  tone,  so  different  from  his 
usual  manner  that  his  mother  looked  up  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"Of  course,"  she  answered,  somewhat  nettled; 
"les  Civray  de  Champignol  do  not  usually  many 
in  the  rotun ." 

"Not  usually  ;  but  if  one  of  them  wished  to  do 
so,  let  us  say,  would  not  the  title  he  could  bestow 
upon  his  wife  well  cover  the  mesalliance?" 


148  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Hector,  I  don't  know  what  makes  yon  take  a 
faux-fuyant  now,  after  appearing  almost  persuaded. 
If  you  are  jesting,"  she  added,  rising  solemnly,  "  it 
is  unbecoming ;  if  you  are  serious,  let  me  remind 
you  that  all  my  past  has  been  devoted  to  the  up- 
holding of  our  house,  and  that  to  the  last  beating 
of  my  pulse  I  shall  defend  it,  —  were  it  against 
my  own  children." 

"  In  that  case  let  me  go,  ma  mhre  ;  for  all  your 
entreaties  would  only  frustrate  your  wishes  if  you 
convinced  me  that  I  ought  to  marry.  Once  for  all,  I 
tell  you  that  the  only  woman  I  have  ever  loved, 
and  the  only  one  that  I  would  marry  if  she  ac- 
cepted me,  is  a  roturihre.  She  is  not  aware  of  my 
love,  and  very  likely  she  never  will  be,  as  I  am 
anxious  to  spare  her  the  insult  of  your  opposition. 
Perhaps  you  wonder  at  this  confidence ;  but  it  is 
not  unnecessary.  I  am  too  respectful  of  your 
wishes  ever  to  go  against  them,  —  except,  indeed,  if 
the  systematic  torture  to  which  I  have  been  sub- 
jected were  renewed.  If  ever  I  am  pressed  again 
to  marry,  I  will  do  so,  —  according  to  my  inclina- 
tion." He  bowed  stiffly  and  went  away,  this  time 
without  opposition. 

Left  to  herself,  Madame  de  Civray  was  aware 
that  all  her  hopes  had  been  shattered  forever.  To 
go  against  such  an  indomitable  will  as  that  of  her 
son  would  be  worse  than  useless,  it  might  be  dan- 
gerous.    She  remained  pondering  over  his  words 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  149 

with  rising  anger  and  indignation.  "The  Mar- 
quis Hector  de  Civray  de  Champignol  in  love  with 
a  roturib'e  !  ready  for  a  mesalliance  !  "  she  repeated 
to  herself.  Who  could  have  suspected  such  an 
enormity  ?  .  .  .  He  had  always  shown  a  proper 
appreciation  of  his  title,  and  was  every  inch  a 
marquis  in  all  circumstances  and  with  every  one ; 
he  showed  himself  courteous,  but  never  allowed  it 
to  be  forgotten  that  he  was  aware  of  his  superior 
position.  Herself,  so  punctilious  on  all  points  of 
etiquette,  had  never  found  anything  to  blame  or 
criticise  in  her  son's  bearing ;  his  tastes  were  not 
low,  neither  was  he  tainted  by  radicalism  ;  she 
had  never  heard  of  any  love  affairs  or  light  in- 
trigues associated  with  his  name.  ...  It  was  a 
mystery  !  .  .  .  Could  it  be  that  he  only  wished  to 
escape  from  her  pressing  solicitations  by  frighten- 
ing her?  No;  there  was  that  in  his  tone  which 
could  not  be  misunderstood.  He  had  told  the  truth, 
and  all  her  hopes  for  the  future  of  her  house  were 
shattered  forever ;  she  would  never  authorize  an 
unequal  marriage  in  the  family.  Then  she  thought 
of  consulting  her  old  and  trusted  friend,  M.  Mole* ; 
he  had  so  often  wisely  advised  her:  what  made 
her  hesitate  this  time  ?  .  .  .  Was  it  possible  that 
her  son  should  be  in  love  with  Helene?  ...  Oh ! 
the  idea  was  ridiculous.  Helene  was  a  little  mod- 
est, retiring  girl,  who  knew  perfectly  the  distance 
which  separated  her  from  Hector  de  Civray.     She 


150  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

was  very  clever  too,  and  not  at  all  the  sort  of  de- 
signing woman  who  must  have  used  her  guiles  to 
entrap  a  marquis.  She  was  very,  very  handsome, 
it  is  true ;  but  instead  of  pushing  her  way  and 
making  the  most  of  Irene's  friendship,  she  could 
hardly  be  persuaded  to  come  to  the  chateau  now, 
and  Irene  complained  of  her  long  absence.  All  at 
once  Madame  de  Civray  remembered  that  she  had 
heard  of  a  lovely  English  girl  staying  with  Ma- 
dame Mold.  Hector  himself  had  spoken  of  her 
golden  hair  and  dazzling  complexion,  and  he  had 
often  of  late  left  orders  for  the  sending  of  flowers 
and  fruit  to  M.  Mold's  house  ;  no  doubt  he  must 
have  fallen  in  love  with  the  English  girl :  they 
were  such  flirts !  Iso  wonder  Madame  la  Mar- 
quise thought  that  she  would  like  to  see  this  girl ; 
but  how  ?  Although  she  sometimes  invited  M. 
Mold  and  his  daughter  to  the  chateau,  she  never 
called  upon  them  :  it  was  one  of  her  points  of  eti- 
quette ;  and  she  further  thought  that  in  order  to 
judge  of  her  son's  sentiments  she  would  have  to 
see  him  and  this  girl  together.  How  was  this 
to  be  achieved?  ...  At  last  she  decided  to  write 
a  little  note  t<>  Helene,  in  which  she  would  com- 
plain, in  the  name  of  Irene,  of  her  prolonged  ab- 
sence, and  would  request  her  t<>  come  to  dejeuner 
and  spend  the  afternoon  at  the  chateau,  with  ber 
father  and  the  friend  who  was  now  Staying  with 
her,  as  soon  as  convenient;  she  left  it  to  her  to 
name  the  day. 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  151 

Hdlene,  who  felt  some  twinges  of  conscience 
about  lier  neglect  of  Irene  de  Civray,  was  for  accept- 
ing the  invitation  at  an  earlv  date,  offering  at  the 
same  time  to  excuse  Olive  if  she  was  at  all 
nervous  at  the  idea  of  meeting  with  four  deaf- 
and-dumb  persons.  But  Olive's  curiosity  was 
awakened,  and  she  felt  also  immensely  flattered, 
though  little  suspecting  she  was  the  one  whom 
Madame  de  Civray  most  particularly  wished  to 
see. 

The  day  was  fixed ;  and  as  it  turned  out  frosty, 
M.  Mold  and  the  girls  wrapped  themselves  very 
warmly  in  furs  and  rugs,  and  started  early  for  the 
chateau.  Olive's  sensations  were  very  different 
from  what  they  had  been  on  her  first  visit;  it 
must  be  admitted  that  her  heart  beat  more  quickly 
when  she  thought  that  she  would  have  to  speak  to 
Madame  de  Civray,  and  to  behave  under  the 
abnormal  circumstances  in  which  she  would  find 
herself,  as  if  she  were  accustomed  to  it. 

The  drive  was  enlivened,  as  usual,  by  M. 
Mold's  talk  and  interesting  observations.  He  told 
some  quaint  legends  in  which  the  peasants  still 
firmly  believe,  and  showed  Olive  the  entrance  to 
the  cavern  in  which  la  Vivre  hides  her  treasures 
and  whence  she  issues  but  once  a  year,  at  mid- 
night, to  go  and  drink  in  the  river,  leaving  the 
cavern  open  to  tempt  mortals  to  the  peril  of  their 
lives ;  for,  once  in  the  midst  of  the  dazzling  heaps 


1,52  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

* 

of  gold  and  precious  stones,  they  cannot  tear  them- 
selves from  the  sight,  and  are  devoured  when  the 
monster  comes  back. 

It  was  very  near  eleven  o'clock  when  they  ar- 
rived at  the  chateau.  Madame  la  Marquise  was 
alone  in  the  petit  salon,  and  received  her  guests 
with  her  usual  dignified  affability.  Mademoiselle 
Irene  soon  came  in,  shook  hands  warmly  with  her 
old  friend  M.  Mold,  bowed  gracefully  to  Olive, 
and  with  a  beaming  expression  of  countenance 
kissed  Helene  on  both  cheeks  and  rapidly  be- 
gan to  exchange  signs  with  her.  Madame  de 
Civray's  attention  was  concentrated  upon  Olive. 
She  made  her  talk,  and  her  suspicions  were  soon 
disarmed  by  the  artless  ingtiiuite  of  the  charming 
girl. 

The  bell  rang ;  the  Marquis  Hector  came  in  and 
preceded  his  brother  and  two  sisters  by  only  a 
few  minutes.  He  offered  his  arm  to  Helene,  while 
M.  Mole"  walked  by  the  side  of  Madame  de  Civ- 
ray  ;  and  poor  Olive  wondered  what  was  to  become 
of  her,  when  M.  Hugues  de  Civray  advanced 
towards  her,  and  with  a  solemn  bow  led  her  into 
the  dining-room,  the  three  daughters  of  the  house 
following  in  the  rear. 

It  was  only  a  short  distance  which  separated 
the  petit  salon  from  the  breakfast-room,  but  Olive 
thought  it  immeasurably  long  ;  she  dared  not  look 
at  her  partner,  and  she  was  aware  of  his  closest 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  153 

attention.  A  few  other  persons  were  already  as- 
sembled round  the  table,  and  the  hope  that  they 
were  neither  deaf  nor  dumb  afforded  some  degree 
of  relief  to  Olive;  there  were  the  avmonier,  two 
secretaries,  a  demoiselle-de-compagnie,  and  two 
governesses. 

The  aiimvnier  said  the  Beuedicite,  and  every 
one  sat  down  after  Madame  la  Marquise.  Luckily 
for  Olive,  she  was  placed  between  Hugues  de  Civ- 
ray  and  the  avmonier,  and  she  could  talk  with 
the  latter.  The  hostess  also  frequently  addressed 
her,  and  watched  her  son  when  she  answered ;  but 
it  was  impossible  to  detect  the  slightest  sign  of 
intimacy  between  the  two.  Olive  felt  horribly  ill 
at  ease  under  the  intent  and  searching  eyes  of  the 
dumb  inmates  of  the  place  ;  the  eager  attention 
they  evidently  gave  to  all  that  went  on,  in  the 
hope  of  understanding  something,  embarrassed 
her,  the  quick  motions  of  their  ringers  bewildered 
her,  and  the  unnatural  noiselessness  of  so  numer- 
ous a  company  almost  unnerved  her.  She  hardly 
ate  anything,  she  could  not  swallow,  and  felt  in 
fearful  dread  of  choking.  When  Hugues  de 
Civray  silently  offered  her  something  with  his 
watchful  and  expressive  look,  she  was  always  on 
the  point  of  thanking  him  aloud,  and  then  had  to 
check  herself  and  to  bow.  One  thing  nearly 
proved  too  much  for  her:  it  was  the  unearthly, 
guttural,  almost  wild  laugh  of  the  youngest  daugh- 


154  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

ter ;  she  had  never  heard  anything  like  it,  and 
when  it  broke  out  at  an  anecdote  that  He'leue  was 
relating  by  sign,  Olive  was  so  startled  that  she 
bewail  to  tremble  uncontrollablv,  and  turned  cold 
all  over.  How  she  envied  Helene's  composure, 
which  enabled  her  to  turn  from  the  animated 
gesticulation  of  Irene  to  the  calm  talk  of  la  Mar- 
quise with  the  same  easy  presence  of  mind. 

Dejeuner  was  over  in  little  more  than  half  an 
hour,  and  Olive  regained  some  composure  while 
the  aunwnier  said  les  grdces.  She  was  conducted 
back  to  the  salon,  where  coffee  was  immediately 
served  and  where  she  was  soon  left  with  Madame 
de  Civray,  M.  Mold,  and  the  Marquis.  Irene  had 
carried  off  He'leue  to  have  her  to  herself,  and 
H utmes  and  his  sisters  had  retired.  This  was  the 
opportunity  sought  by  Madame  de  Civray  to  watch 
her  son  and  Olive  together ;  but  he  merely  showed 
his  usual  haughty  politeness,  and  the  girl  replied 
with  a  degree  of  bashful  reserve  which  was  a  con- 
vincing proof  of  the  inanity  of  her  suspicions,  lie- 
proachiug  herself  for  having  wronged  this  lovely 
child,  though  it  was  only  in  thought,  la  Marquise 
was  very  gracious  to  atone.  She;  took  Olive  to  the 
hothouse  and  vulierc,  where  many  exotic  birds 
could  be  admired,  and  contrived  to  make  that  part 
of  the  visit  pleasant  enough.  Indeed,  Olive  might 
have  enjoyed  it  thoroughly,  had  it  not  been  for 
her  constant  dread  of  meeting  again  with  some  of 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  155 

the  dumb  persons.  This  was  spared  her,  and  she 
felt  a  sensation  of  happy  deliverance  when  she 
jumped  into  the  break  that  took  her  away.  Once 
outside  of  the  gates,  she  breathed  deeply  several 
times,  wiped  her  eyes,  shuddered  a  little,  and  press- 
ing herself  close  to  He'lene,  she  murmured  :  "  Oh, 
Hdleue,  I  hope  you  will  never  be  Marquise  de 
Civray !  " 


156  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 


XL 


Appjl  had  come  round  again  and  brought  Jean 
at  Easter.  He  was  so  happy  to  be  in  the  coun- 
try, he  said,  that  everything  was  a  pleasure  to 
him,  and  he  always  wanted  somebody  to  share  it 
with  him.  In  the  morning  he  called  Olive  and 
his  sister  to  look  at  the  snowdrops  and  crocuses 
peeping  out  of  their  moss-beds  all  a-glitter  with 
the  sunlit  dew.  Then  he  would  take  a  book  of 
poems  out  of  his  pocket  and  select  some  particu- 
larly beautiful  passage  that  he  read  aloud  to  them 
as  they  slowly  walked  under  the  perfect  purity  of 
a  spring  sky,  with  the  delicate  tracery  of  leafless, 
red-tipped  branches  detached  upon  it.  In  the 
afternoon  he  idly  lingered  in  the  old  salon,  warmed 
by  a  smouldering  fire  in  the  large  chimney  and 
the  dancing  rays  of  the  sun  darting  through  the 
widely  open  windows,  to  be  lulled  to  dream  by 
the  girls'  music.  Later  mi  lie  went  out,  often 
witli  his  father,  his  sister,  and  Olive,  to  see  the 
river  with  its  moving  islands  of  white  ranunculus, 
guarded  by  the  green  lances  of  the  iris  ;  and  they 
came  back  under  the  lengthening  shadows  of  the 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  157 

rampart  towers.  And  all  that  time  he  was  singing 
the  song  of  happiness  in  words  or  looks. 

Just  then  Mrs.  Pearce's  letters  became  very- 
pressing  about  the  fultilment  of  the  promise  given 
by  M.  Mold  to  bring  back  her  niece.  There  was, 
of  course,  no  withdrawing  it.  Jean  had  suddenly 
become  eulmhtened  about  the  benefit  that  he 
would  derive  from  studying  the  pictures  in  the 
Academy ;  and  as  he  was  rid  of  Jephtha's  Daugh- 
ter for  the  Salon,  he  thought  lie  might  as  well 
accompany  his  father.  M.  Mole  offered  no  op- 
position, and  they  all  began  to  prepare  for  their 
journey,  Jean  recommending  his  sister  to  take 
some  "  finery "  with  her,  because  they  were  sure 
to  receive  several  invitations.  She  might  have 
been  rather  embarrassed,  not  knowing  exactly 
what  would  be  expected  ;  but  Olive  came  to  her 
help  with  previous  experience,  and  before  the  end 
of  the  month  they  were  ready  for  starting. 

Such  worldly  proceedings  were  far  removed  from 
the  utmost  that  Madame  Mold  could  concede  to 
social  duties,  and  it  was  decided  that  while  her 
husband,  son,  and  daughter  were  away  from  home 
she  should  go  for  a  retreat  to  the  cloistered  convenl 
of  Ste.  Pacifique  to  pray  for  their  welfare  and  do 
penance  for  her  own  sins. 

"Oh!  Mademoiselle  Olive,"  said  Toinette,  a 
short  time  before  the  departure,  "I  can't  bring 
myself  to  think  that  they  will  come  back  without 


158  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

you.  ...  It  seems  to  me  as  if  you  really  were 
one  of  the  family." 

"  I  am  sure  you  have  spoilt  me  as  much  as  if  I 
were,"  answered  the  girl  with  a  pretty  blush. 

"  I  hope  that  you  '11  come  again  for  the  vaca- 
tions." 

"  I  shall  try  my  very  best;  but  of  course  it's  for 
my  aunt  to  decide,  —  or  rather,  my  cousin." 

"  Don't  forget,  Ce  que  femme  veut,  Dicu  le  veut." 

"  No  fear  of  my  forgetting  it,"  laughed  Olive. 

It  was  agreed  that  M.  Mole-  .should  stop  a  short 
time  in  Paris,  and  on  the  first  day  of  his  arrival 
he  went  to  see  Madame  Ledoyen  with  Olive,  his 
son,  and  his  daughter.  They  found  her  very  weak 
and  altered,  and  very  sad,  in  spite  of  her  attempts 
to  conceal  it. 

The  news  of  her  son  were  good,  she  said.  His 
voyage  had  been  all  that  could  be  desired ;  but 
instead  of  stopping  frequently  on  his  way,  as  he 
had  done  previously,  ho  had  gone  straight  to  his 
place  of  business,  and  had  settled  as  comfortably 
as  circumstances  allowed.  Being  there  for  a  long 
time,  he  had  quite  a  luxurious  establishment,  —  a 
wooden  hut  all  to  himself  as  chief  engineer,  a 
real  bed  with  linen  sheets,  and  even  a  small  book- 
case. He,  had  also  ;i  trusty  man-servant,  who,  if  he 
did  very  little  else,  at  least  kept  the  revolvers  in  a 
perfect  state  and  the  bowie-knives  well  sharpened, 
in  ease  of  visits  from  plundering  rascals,  who  were 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  159 

more  numerous  than  one  would  wish  in  the  dia- 
mond mines.  His  best  company  was  his  dog 
Pacha,  whom  he  had  taken  away  with  him  and  to 
whom  he  talked  of  the  past.  He  wrote  very  regu- 
larly by  every  mail,  never  forgetting  to  inquire 
about  all  his  friends ;  and  she,  on  her  part,  never 
failed  to  answer,  for  he  had  written  that  if  a 
packet  came  without  a  letter  from  her,  he  should 
think  she  was  ill  and  should  embark  immediately. 
She  sent  him  some  of  the  best  new  books  as  they 
came  out,  and  they  were  received  with  the  great- 
est pleasure.     His  health  was  good. 

Such  was  the  short  account  Madame  Ledoyen 
save  of  her  son's  new  kind  of  existence.  She  said 
nothing  of  broken  hopes  and  regrets,  nothing  of 
her  own  lonely  life.  But  to  Hellene  there  was  a 
sort  of  silent  reproach  in  the  darkened  rooms  and 
cold  hearths,  in  the  too-perfect  tidiness  of  every- 
thing, in  the  silent,  empty-looking,  changed, 
though  familiar,  place.  Madame  Ledoyen  showed 
her  visitors,  not  without  pride,  the  heavy  carved 
coffers,  the  delicately  inlaid  cabinets,  the  soft 
and  thick  carpets  brought  by  her  son  from  differ- 
ent parts  of  India.  "He  himself  placed  them 
as  they  are  when  he  hoped  to  remain  licit',"  she 
said. 

"  And  he  will  find  them  again  when  he  comes 
back,  bavin-  lost  nothing  in  your  keeping,"  cheer- 
ily answered  M.  Mole\    "Three  years  pass  rapidly 


160  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

enough  at  your  time  of  life,  Madame  Ledoyen. 
After  the  first  half  you  '11  be  hoping  for  his  return, 
if  something  does  not  make  him  come  sooner." 

Madame  Ledoyen  shook  her  head  and  sighed 
involuntarily,  and  with  a  faint  smile  she  said  she 
hoped  they  would  all  come  to  dine  with  her  soon. 
But  they  excused  themselves  on  the  shortness  of 
their  stay,  and  she  did  not  insist. 

He"leue  all  the  time  was  suffering  intensely  ; 
she  would  have  been  thankful  to  be  left  alone  to 
relieve  her  heartache  by  unchecked  tears.  For  it 
was  not  only  sympathy  with  the  meek  resigna- 
tion and  wearied  looks  of  the  mother  that  she 
felt ;  had  she  not  herself  loved  Maxime  dearly, 
and  was  she  not  deprived  of  his  friendship  now  ? 
Was  there  no  real  affection  in  the  world  besides 
love  ?  And  was  not  the  absence  of  such  a  friend 
as  Maxime  painful  to  her  as  to  his  mother?  Why 
could  they  not  grieve  together  ?  .  .  .  No ;  it  could 
not  be.  Madame  Ledoyen  would  not  understand 
how  it  Mas  possible  to  have  affectionate  feelings 
towards  her  son  and  yet  to  let  him  go  away.  Hdlene 
strove  to  stifle  the  sharp  pangs  of  her  regrets  and 
to  hide  them;  but  the  prolongation  of  such  a  visit 
was  becoming  a  torture,  and  with  a  sort  of  tacit 
understanding  it  was  made  short. 

Tin-  Salon  being  open,  .lean's  pictures  were  to 
be  seen,  before  everything  else.  He  had  two, — 
Li     large  Jephtha's  Daughter,  to  attract  the  atten- 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  1G1 

tion  of  the  jury,  and  a  much  smaller  one,  of  a 
pretty  English  girl  walking  by  the  side  of  her  old 
grandfather  on  the  sea-shore.  The  color  and  sen- 
timent of  both  were  very  remarkable,  and  attracted 
considerable  notice.  Jean  received  a  good  many 
congratulations  as  he  walked  from  room  to  room. 
Olive  heard  two  important-looking  gentlemen, 
with  red  ribbons  in  their  button-holes,  say,  as  they 
were  standing  before  the  pictures,  that  the  large 
one  would  certainly  win  a  medal  for  the  author. 
With  flushed  face  and  exulting  look  she  hastened 
to  repeat  what  she  had  heard  to  M.  Mol£,  and 
they  all  began  to  entertain  some  hope  that  it 
might  turn  out  so,  when  the  illustrated  news- 
papers reproduced  Jephtha's  Daughter  as  one  of 
the  most  important  and  promising  pictures  of  the 
Salon.  This  put  Jean  in  excellent  spirits,  —  or 
rather  heightened  the  excellent  spirits  he  possessed, 
and  made  him  a  delightful  companion  for  the  journey. 

He'lene  had  been  very  impatient  to  see  England 
and  to  become  acquainted  with  Engl  ish  life.  When 
she  reached  Dover  her  first  impression  was  one  of 
unmingled  pleasure. 

The  day  was  fair,  ami  the  white  cliffs  and  the 
green  sea  made  a  perfect  harmony  of  colors  in  the 
slightly  hazy  atmosphere.  The  walk  on  the  beach 
and  in  the  town,  with  a  keen,  invigorating  brei 
was  thought  charming,  and  dinner  was  welcome 
after  it. 

n 


162  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

"  What  will  you  drink,  Hedene  ?  —  you  don't 
like  beer,"  asked  Jean.  "  Claret  in  England  is  often 
bad,  and  always  dear." 

"  Oh  !  I  can  drink  water.  .  .  .  What  strange  soup 
is  this,  with  bits  of  meat  and  bones  swimming 
about  ? " 

"  I  can't  tell  its  name,"  replied  M.  Mole\  be- 
tween short  intervals  of  coughing  ;  "  but  I  should 
recommend  you  not  to  taste  it,  it 's  fearfully  pep- 
pered.- .  .  .  What !  Jean,  are  you  able  to  swallow 
it?" 

"  Oh  !  pepper  and  I  have  become  intimately  ac- 
quainted during  my  stay  in  England,"  answered 
Jean  with  a  laugh  ;  "  the  only  effect  an  over-dose 
produces  upon  me  is  to  make  me  squint  horribly." 

Olive  and  Hedene  broke  into  a  lit  of  laughter. 
"  I  wondered,"  gasped  the  former,  "  whether  }'ou 
had  been  suddenly  struck  with  strabism."  And 
the  laughter  became  irresistible  when  it  was  ascer- 
tained that  Jean  could  not  force  both  his  eyes  to 
look  in  the  same  direction  for  some  time. 

As  usual  at  seaside  hotels,  soles  and  whitings 
were  the  only  fish  to  be  had,  so  soles  were  chosen, 
and  Jean  praised  the  use  of  Worcester  sauce 
or  Lazenby  as  an  accompanying  condiment.  M. 
Mole*  ventured  upon  ever  so  small  a  quantity,  and 
declared  it  capital,  llelene  was  satisfied  with 
lemon,  and  did  not  think  it  safe  to  go  through  so 
many  experiments  at  once;  still,  in  spite  of  her 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  163 

caution,  she  fell  a  victim  to  the  unsuspected  snare 
of  scraped  horse-radish  served  with  her  slice  of 
roast-beef.  She  ate  it,  unaware  of  its  power,  and 
immediately  her  temples  and  forehead  were  pearled 
with  tiny  drops  of  perspiration,  which  soon  covered 
all  her  face,  to  the  roots  of  her  hair ;  and  with  a 
trembling,  moist  hand,  she  helped  herself  to  a  full 
tumbler  of  water,  which  she  swallowed  hurriedly. 

"  Now  what  is  the  matter  with  Ildlene  ?"  anx- 
iously asked  her  father,  who  had  just  observed  the 
strange  expression  of  her  countenance.  "  She  does 
not  squint,  like  Jean,  so  it 's  not  the  pepper." 

"  Oh,  it 's  far  worse !  .  .  ."  exclaimed  He'lene. 
"  And  vet  it  looked  innocent  enough  :  I  took  it  for 
celery  ; "  and  she  had  to  drink  another  tumbler  of 
water. 

"It's  one  of  the  numerous  sly  devices  of  the 
English  to  astonish  the  foreigners,"  said  Jean ; 
"they  choose  our  mouths  as  the  proper  place  to 
explode  their  fireworks  in,  —  at  least  that  was  my 
impression  when  I  came  over  for  the  first  time." 

"  Now  you  should  protect  your  sister  against 
such  surprises,  instead  of  laughing  at  her,"  remon- 
strated Olive;  "and  since  you  don't,  I '11  watch 
over  her." 

"  I  am  willing  to  abdicate  my  protectorate  in 
such  matters  in  your  favor,"  answered  Jean  ;  "  but 
at  the  same  time  you  will  bear  the  responsibility." 

The  vegetables  were  declared  watery  and  taste- 


1(34  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

less,  the  pudding  excellent,  the  glass  of  port-wine 
quite  acceptable  after  so  many  tumblers  of  Mater, 
and  the  dinner  ended  without  any  other  incident. 

The  girls  had  asked  for  a  double-bedded  room, 
and  Olive  was  exceedingly  amused  by  her  friend's 
interest  and  curiosity. 

"  What  a  delightfully  clean  and  fresh  room 
this  is  !"  was  Hedene's  first  exclamation.  "Every- 
thing is  snowy  white !  .  .  .  And  what  a  peculiar 
healthy  smell,  so  unlike  that  of  a  French  hotel ! 
All!  it  conies  from  the  soap  on  the  washstands 
aud  from  the  towels.  I  see  they  use  a  different  kind 
of  soap  for  washing  linen  in  England.  How  roomy 
and  convenient  the  place  is  altogether  ! "  Then  her 
eyes  caught  the  Bible  on  the  mantelpiece  and  the 
decorated  religious  sentences  on  the  wall,  and  she 
told  Olive  that  she  had  never  realized  how  great 
could  be  the  difference  between  French  and  Eng- 
lish habits.  "I  had  never  thought  that  everything 
would  be  different,"  she  continued,  —  "the  forms  of 
chairs  and  tables;  the  length  and  breath  of  nap- 
kins and  toilet-towels;  the  size  of  ewers  and 
plates;  of  knives  and  washing-basins;  the  way  to 
fasten  up  curtains;  the  making  of  a  bed;  and  so 
on,  from  the  general  aspect  to  the  minutest  detail." 

"Wait  till  you  are  in  London,  to  be  surprised," 
answered  Olive.  "  However,  I  am  anxious  to  know 
already  if  you  are  pleased  with  the  change." 

"  Pleased  ?  .   .   .    I  am  deliyhted  !  —  not  so  much 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  165 

with  the  cookery,  though ;  but  I  suppose  it  re- 
quires some  time  to  get  accustomed  to  it.  .  .  . 
Ah !  how  funny  are  these  little  narrow  pillows," 
she  exclaimed  as  she  got  into  bed.  "  That  again 
requires  some  initiation  to  use  them  properly, 
for  they  must  be  tumbling  off  or  rolling  about 
constantly." 

"They  are  much  smaller  than  your  big  square 
French  pillows,  and  you  can  only  rest  your  head 
upon  them,  instead  of  comfortably  supporting  your 
back  and  shoulders,"  answered  Olive  ;  "  but  do  as 
I  learned  to  do  for  myself.  I  put  one  above  the 
other,  close  together,  and  I  try  not  to  move  too 
much ;  so  now,  whether  I  disturb  them  or  not,  I 
am  sure  to  sleep  soundly,  for  I  don't  exactly  know 
what  I  say  already." 

"Good-night,  then!  .  .  .  Oh,  dear !  how  pleas- 
ant is  the  smell  of  the  sheets,  and  how  soft  they 
are !  .  .  .  I  suppose  they  iron  them  in  England, 
don't  they  ?  .  .  ."  But  as  no  answer  came,  Hd- 
lene  fell  asleep  too. 

Kew  was  reached  the  following  evening  without 
stoppage  in  London.  Mrs.  Pearce  looked  very 
happy  to  see  her  niece  again,  in  spite  of  the  extra 
trouble  which  would  be  the  result  of  having  to 
entertain  her  friends;  for  in  spite  of  M.  Mold's 
insistence  for  going  into  lodgings,  it  had  been  *  I  *  * — 
cided  by  Pearce  and  his  mother  that  he  should 
stay  at  "  Daisy  Lodge  "  with  Jean  and  Hdlene. 


166  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

A  great  many  questions  were  asked  and  an- 
swered on  both  sides,  and  Olive,  with  her  charming 
impulsiveness,  sprang  from  her  chair  again  and 
again  to  kiss  her  aunt,  who  forgot  to  remonstrate, 
being  more  moved  than  she  chose  to  show.  As 
to  Pearce,  he  greeted  his  friends  with  his  usual 
formal  politeness,  which  did  not  exclude  an  ex- 
pression of  real  pleasure  upon  his  handsome  face. 
Hedene  held  out  her  hand  to  him  with  a  beating 
heart  and  wistful  look  in  her  soft  gray  eyes ;  but 
he  merely  shook  it  a  Vanglaisc,  and  let  it  go  to 
shake  that  of  Jean  more  vigorously. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  had  news  of  Madame 
Mole*  on  your  way  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Pearce. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  shall  be  deprived  of 
her  letters  for  some  time  to  come,"  M.  Mold  ex- 
plained. "  My  wife  is  en  rdraitc,  and  while  in  the 
convent  she  has  to  submit  to  the  rules  of  the 
sisterhood  just  as  if  she  were  a  member  of  it ;  in 
fact,  she  is  a  cloistered  nun  for  the  time,  and  as 
such  can  neither  write  nor  receive  letters." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mrs.  IVaive  ;  and  she  hastened 
to  add,  "  It's  only  fur  a  few  days,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Twenty-one,"  was  the  answer. 

Although  she  Mattered  herself  that  she  knew 
something  of  Madame  Mule,  Mrs.  Pearce  was  as- 
tounded by  the  idea  that  a  good  wife  ami  a  tender 
mother  could  choose,  of  her  mui  free  will,  to  re- 
main for  such  a  space  of  time  as  three  long  weeks 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  167 

without  news  of  husband  and  children,  particu- 
larly when  they  were  travelling ;  and  she  could  not 
help  asking  again :  "  Of  course  the  rules  would 
not  stand  if  anything  of  importance  had  to  be 
conveyed  ? " 

"  The  rules  cannot  be  broken,  even  in  case  of 
death ;  but  the  authority  of  the  Superioress  can 
mitigate  their  severity,"  replied  M.  Mold. 

"Even  so,  these  rules  appear  to  me  terribly 
hard,"  remarked  Pearce. 

"  But  nobody  is  obliged  to  court  this  severity, 
you  know,"  M.  Mold  answered.  "  If  the  rules  al- 
lowed the  invasion  of  earthly  interests  into  the 
convent,  there  would  be  no  security  in  the  peace 
they  offer  to  the  weary  souls  who  seek  their 
protection." 

"  So  he  approves  of  his  wife's  decision,"  thought 
Mrs.  Pearce  ;  "  the  French  are  unaccountable  ! " 

Tea  had  been  brought,  meanwhile,  for  the  re- 
freshment of  the  travellers,  and  Hdlene  was  very 
much  interested  by  the  appearance  of  the  spruce 
and  consciously  pretty  maid  who  brought  in  the 
tray.  Her  diminutive  muslin  apron,  the  bit  of  lace 
standing  in  lieu  of  cap  on  the  hair,  whose  curly 
fringe  hid  the  forehead,  the  elaborate  trimming  of 
her  dress  in  the  last  fashion,  surprised  Made- 
moiselle Mold  considerably.  "  I  suppose  this  is  a 
new  maid?"  she  asked  of  Olive  when  they  had 
gone  up  to  the  room  they  were  to  share ;  "she  did 
not  seem  to  know  you." 


168  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door  before  Olive  had 
time  to  answer  ;  it  was  the  spruce  maid  with  a  can 
of  hot  water.  She  curtseyed,  and  casting  down 
her  anything  but  timid  eyes,  said:  "I  hope  I  see 
you  well,  Miss,  after  your  long  journey  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  Maria,  I  am  very  well.  I  am  glad 
to  find  you  still  here." 

"Very  much  obliged,  Miss."  Another  curtsey, 
and  Maria  was  gone. 

"  You  see  that  we  are  old  acquaintances,  now, 
don't  you  ? "  said  Olive,  with  a  laugh  at  the  per- 
plexed look  of  He'lene.  "I  daresay  next  time  I 
go  to  Champignol,  Toinette  is  capable  of  kissing 
me  on  both  cheeks.  Would  not  Henry  be  trans- 
fixed at  the  sight !  .  .  .  as  you  are  now." 

"Oh !  I  don't  think  Toinette  would  be  so  free  as 
that,"  answered  Helene,  who  noticed  that  the  con- 
tents of  the  handbags  had  already  been  carefully 
spread  out  for  use ;  "  neither  would  she  dream  of 
getting  everything  ready  for  us,  as  it  is  here." 

"  But  do  you  know,  He'lene,  that  I  already  regret 
Toinette?  I  can  help  myself  now;  and  1  like  to 
feel  surrounded  with  affection." 

"  I  shall  tell  that  to  Toinette,  and  it  will  make 
her  very  proud  to  have  been  remembered." 

New  wonders  were  in  store  for  He'lene.  The 
fine  damask  of  the  table-linen,  the  quantity  of 
massive  silver,  the  absolutely  noiseless  service  of 
the  maids,  the  brilliantly  lighted  rooms,  were  a 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  •    169 

source  of  astonishment,  especially  when  she  re- 
membered that  Mrs.  Pearce  had  no  fortune. 

At  night  she  found  her  nightgown  and  slippers 
warming  at  the  bedroom  fire,  and  she  was  shown 
on  the  same  landing  a  bath-room,  which  might  be 
used  at  any  time,  there  being  always  an  abun- 
dance of  hot  and  cold  water  and  a  heated  cupboard 
with  towels  and  wraps.  "Oh,  my  poor  Olive," 
she  exclaimed,  after  these  successive  discoveries, 
"  I  had  no  idea  of  all  the  privations  you  suffered 
with  us !  Had  I  known,  I  should  never  have  dared 
to  invite  you." 

"  Nonsense !  .  .  .  I  have  learned  a  very  valua- 
ble lesson,  which  is,  that  all  these  indulgences 
are  not  necessary  to  happiness.  I  am  proud 
to  feel  that  I  can  be  very  well  contented  with- 
out luxury,  and  I  owe  my  independence  to  your 
example." 

"  Still,  this  kind  of  life  must  be  very  pleasant, — 
dangerously  pleasant.  I  begin  to  understand  all 
that  your  cousin  said  about  the  necessity  of  large 
fortunes  before  one  dared  to  marry." 

"  Unfortunately,  you  11  be  more  and  more  im- 
pressed by  the  truth  of  it;  but  since  you  don't, 
mean  to  live  in  England,  you  must  try  to  enjoy 
the  good  and  pretty  things  that  will  be  set  before 
you,  without  arri&re-pensde." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  but  too  easy ;  the  atmos- 
phere is  too  relaxing  to  remain  a  stoic  in  it." 


170  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

On  the  following  morning  Pearce  took  his 
friends  for  a  walk  about  Kew,  and  they  admired 
the  new,  diversified  styles  of  houses,  and  came 
back  by  the  river-side.  In  the  afternoon  they 
visited  the  magnificent  Gardens,  and  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  M.  Mole-  could  be  made 
to  leave  the  palm-house. 

"  Did  not  I  say  that  you  would  find  something 
to  interest  you  here  ?"  asked  Pearce,  smiling. 

"  I  believe  I  could  spend  the  rest  of  my  life  in 
that  garden,"  enthusiastically  replied  M.  Mold,  who 
was  a  fervent  botanist. 

"But  we  have  to  see  the  sunset  from  the  bridge," 
Jean  interposed ;  "  and  as  it  is  fine  to-day,  we 
must  not  miss  it." 

They  leisurely  strolled  till  the  sun  began  to 
decline;  and  when  the  golden  rays  shot  through 
the  branches,  and  spread  their  splendor  over  the 
sky  and  along  the  surface  of  the  noble  river  till  it 
burned  and  glittered  and  changed  like  the  northern 
light,  they  received  an  impression  never  to  be 
forgotten. 

!>y  the  late  post  there  came  some  letters  for 
M.  Mult',  and  among  them  a  very  large,  thick  en- 
velope. "It's  a  lettre  de  part"  remarked  Jean. 
"I  wonder  who  has  got  married  among  our  ac- 
quaintances." 

"Mafoi!  this  is  a  surprise,"  M.  Mold  exclaimed ; 
"  as  you  could  not  guess,  I  may.  as  well  tell  you 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  171 

that  Madame  la  Marquise  de  Civray  a  Vhonneur  de 
nous  fairc  part  du  manage  de  M.  le  Comte  Phi- 
lippe-Sigisbert-Hugues  de  Civray  de  Champignol 
a.vee  Mademoiselle  Blanclie-Isabelle-Aurorc-Myrtille 
des  Sogrons  de  Perdal." 

"Pas  possible  /"  cried  Jean.  "  Had  it  been  his 
brother  I  could  have  understood  it ;  but  .  .  ." 

"  Oh  !  I  think  the  last  conversation  I  had  with 
Madame  de  Civray  explains  it ;  she  told  me  that 
the  Marquis  seemed  decided  against  matrimony, 
and  that  if  this  were  confirmed  she  would  see 
that  her  second  son  did  not  allow  the  house  to  end 
with  him." 

" It 's  rather  a  perplexing  problem!"  said  Jean. 

"  Anyhow,  I  pity  the  bride.  .  .  .  What  a  place 
to  spend  a  honeymoon  in  !"  shuddered  Olive.  "I 
wonder  if  she  is  deaf  and  dumb  too  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  Madame  de  Civray  was  determined 
on  this  point." 

"Well,  I  trust  the  children  may  escape,"  said 
He'lene  thoughtfully. 

"It's  just  possible,  as  we  have  seen,"  answered 
her  father;  "but  it  is  an  awful  risk.  I  wish  it 
had  been  the  Marquis  who  wTas  married  !  .  .  .  Well, 
I  must  send  our  congratulations,  nevertheless." 

On  the  morrow  they  visited  the  Royal  Academy. 
"You  know,  Pearce,"  Jean  had  said  to  him,  "that 
we  don't  mean  to  take  up  all  your  time.  I  can 
take  care  of  He'lene  and  of  my  father ;  so  it  must 


172  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

be  understood  that  although  we  shall  always  be 
glad  of  your  company,  you  are  only  to  give  us 
what  you  can  easily  spare." 

But  Pearce,  besides  the  pleasure  he  was  certain 
to  derive  from  the  society  of  his  friends,  had 
another  point  in  view,  —  he  was  not  sorry  to  hear 
the  opinion  of  a  clever  artist  like  Jean  about  the 
pictures  he  was  to  criticise.  So  they  all  went  to- 
gether, even  Mrs.  Pearce,  who  did  not  fail  to  com- 
plain of  the  endless  troubles  society  imposed  upon 
its  members.  "  I  always  come  back  with  a  dread- 
ful headache,"  she  said  ;  "  but  for  the  sake  of  con- 
versation one  is  absolutely  obliged  to  go  through 
it.  For  two  mouths  now  we  shall  be  constantly 
exposed  to  all  sorts  of  questions  about  the  pictures, 
and  expected  to  give  an  opinion.  Besides,  one  has 
to  be  seen  there  sometimes." 

Hdlene  and  her  father  were  delighted  with  their 
initiation  in  English  art  ;  hitherto  thry  had  seen 
very  little  of  it,  —  a  few  specimens  now  and  then 
at  the  Salon.  Pearce  avoided  the  mediocre  works, 
and  took  them  at  once  to  the  best  pictures,  point- 
ing out  their  characteristics  and  giving  a  brief  biog- 
raphy of  their  authors.  Frequently  he  discussed 
with  Jean  the  defects  or  merits  of  a  particu- 
lar picture  at  great  length,  and  the  ladies  during 
these  moments  surveyed  the  surrounding  toilettes 
and  exchanged  comments  upon  them.  From  time 
to  time   IVarce,  rather  proud  of  all  the  bows   he 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  173 

• 

received  in  the  presence  of  Hdlene,  would  tell  her 
that  this  gracious  nod  came  from  a  celebrated  lady 
novelist,  and  that  from  a  famous  beauty ;  the 
gentleman  who  had  just  shaken  hands  with  him 
was  an  E.  A.,  the  other  who  beckoned  to  him,  a 
Minister  of  State,  etc. 

While  M.  Mold  was  trying  to  bring  together  all 
the  little  party  in  order  to  leave  the  exhibition, 
Hdlene,  who  was  standing  still,  waiting  for  the 
others,  noticed  the  exquisite  walk  and  carriage  of 
a  lady  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  whose  face  she 
could  not  see  at  that  moment.  "  I  feel  almost 
sure,"  she  said  to  Olive,  who  had  joined  her, 
"that  this  graceful  person  in  front  of  us  is  not 
English;  there  is  none  of  the  British  staccato  in 
her  walk,  she  seems  to  glide.  See  how  her  train 
softly  ripples  behind  her '  even  when  she  turns,  it 
does  not  jerk.  And  what  perfect  taste  in  the  plain 
elegance  of  her  mourning! — no  heavy  crapes  as 
atonement  for  glittering  jot,  but  a  costume  of  in- 
credibly fine  material,  silky  without  shine,  and 
attractive,  despite  its  sombreness." 

The  lady  was  surrounded  by  several  gentlemen ; 
and  as  she  turned  her  head  to  speak  to  one  of 
them  at  some  distance,  Olive  saw  her  face,  and 
she  smiled.  "Yon  are  mistaken  in  your  gues 
Iled&ue.  Mrs.  Stodard  is  a  real  Englishwoman, 
gracefulness  and  all ;  but  I  did  not  know  she  had 
lost  her  husband." 


174  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  She  moves  more  like  a  princess  than  like  an 
ordinary  person.  See  with  what  dignity  and  grace 
she  meets  the  empressemeut  which  surrounds  her ! 
Ah,  what  a  lovely  face  ! " 

"  You  are  not  the  only  one  to  admire  Mrs.  Stod- 
ard; I  heard  Henry  say  that  all  the  celebrities 
who  go  to  her  house  are  never  tired  of  singing  her 
praises." 

"  But  what  is  she  ? " 

"  Oh  !  she  is  a  very  important  person  indeed,  — 
or  at  least  she  was ;  her  husband,  Mr.  Stodard,  had 
one  of  the  most  important  publishing  houses  of 
London.  You  may  imagine  that  there  would  be 
a  court  about  her,  especially  as  they  were  both 
extremely  hospitable." 

"  I  am  very  much  surprised  to  hear  that  she  is 
English.  I  greatly  admire  English  beauty;  but 
this  lady's  is  of  quite  a  different  type.  Her  fea- 
tures are  as  regular  as  those  of  a  Grecian  statue, 
but  with  a  peculiar  charm." 

"Ah!  I  remember,  now,  that  Henry  said  her 
mother  was  Greek,  and  that  she  herself  knows 
modern  Greek  very  well.  She  is  also  a  famous 
musician." 

At  this  precise  moment  Jean  was  seen  advancing 
inwards  Airs.  Stodard  and  shaking  hands  with  her. 
They  exchanged  a  few  phrases,  the  lady  looked 
towards  Helene  and  Olive,  and  a  smile  of  recog- 
nition softened  the  firmness  of  her  beautiful  face ; 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  17.") 

she  walked  in  the  girls'  direction,  accompanied  by 
Jean,  and  said  to  him  :  "  You  must  introduce  your 
sister  to  me.  .  .  .  How  do  you  do,  Olive  ? "  she 
continued,  when  close  to  her.  "  I  hear  that  you 
have  been  in  France,  and  are  now  quite  a  French 
scholar,  —  a  blooming  and  a  joyous  scholar,  as  I 
see:  this  is  right." 

When  He'leue  had  been  introduced  to  her,  she 
said :  "  I  did  not  pay  my  compliments  to  your 
brother  about  his  pictures  when  1  knew  that  yon 
were  here,  I  reserved  them  for  you,  Mademoi- 
selle :  you  must  be  very  proud  of  his  success.  I 
can  assure  you  that  it  gave  great  pleasure  to  his 
English  friends." 

He'leue,  with  a  little  hesitation  due  to  the  use 
of  a  foreign  language,  expressed  her  thanks  for 
Mrs.  Stodard's  interest. 

Pearce  now  came  forward  with  his  mother  and 
M.  Mold.  Helene  thought  he  looked  ill  at  ease  and 
somewhat  put  out  by  the  meeting,  especially  when 
Mrs.  Stodard  said :  "  Your  friend  M.  Jean  Mole 
has  promised  to  bring  his  father  and  sister  to 
dine  with  us  on  Monday  next, —  will  you  join  them 
with  your  mother  and  Olive  ?  .  .  .  Xo  need  to 
dress,  we  are  still  in  deep  mourning.  Yes,  thanks. 
I  must  leave  you  now,  to  go  back-  1m  the  kind 
friends  who  are  taking  me  through  the  exhibition  ; 
but  I  count  upon  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  all 
on  Monday  and  of  having  a  real  chat  togethi 


176  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

She  bowed,  and  in  so  doing  rested  her  deep 
e}'es  on  those  of  Hdlene  with  a  sort  of  tender 
concern. 

"  Your  sister  is  enraptured  by  Mrs.  Stodard's 
beauty,"  Olive  said  to  Jean  as  soon  as  the  lady 
was  out  of  hearing,  —  "  what  is  your  opinion  ? " 

"  I  think  Mrs.  Stodard  is  extremely  beautiful." 

"  Oh  ! "  pouted  Olive,  "  everybody  can  see  that. 
...  I  mean  do  you  like  that  kind  of  beauty  ? 
...  It 's  too  severe  for  my  taste." 

"  I  suppose,  Olive,  you  never  saw  her  smile, 
then  ? "  Pearce  interposed.  "  When  serious  and 
severe  she  is  Pallas  herself,  and  when  she  smiles 
she  is  one  of  the  Graces  ...  as  a  great  poet  said," 
he  added  hurriedly,  noticing  that  Hdlene  was  all 
attention. 

"Who  was  this  flattering  poet?"  mischievously 
inquired  Olive. 

"  Oh  !  I  forget  just  now  ;  his  name  is  of  no  con- 
sequence," he  answered  evasively. 

After  dinner  M.  Mold  asked  to  learn  something 
more  about  the  lady  who  had  invited  them;  and 
as  Pearce  seemed  rather  reluctant,  his  mother  told 
what  she  knew. 

"  Mrs.  Stodard   was  the   daughter  of  an  artist, 

a  sculptor  who  had  gone  to  C.reece  to  study.     He 

married  a  Greek  girl ;  but  nobody  ever  saw  her  in 

land,  as  she  would  never  leave  her   country. 

She  died  when  her  only  daughter  was  sixteen,  and 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  177 

then  father  and  daughter  came  to  live  in  London, 
and  occasionally  went  to  Greece  to  visit  her  tomb. 
When  Ida  Bayliss  made  her  first  appearance  in 
society,  she  created  quite  a  sensation ;  she  was 
not  only  handsome,  but  she  was  unlike  anybody 
else.  I  remember  her  very  well.  She  dressed  a  la 
grecque ;  and  although  it  seemed  rather  eccentric, 
the  style  became  her  to  perfection.  She  was  at 
that  time  full  of  a  fiery  impulsiveness,  which  she 
has  very  properly  toned  down  since,  but  which 
men  thought  wonderfully  seductive.  Despite  all 
the  admiration  she  awakened,  and  although  she 
had  as  many  courtiers  as  a  princess,  she  remained 
single  until  the  death  of  her  father;  and  shortly 
afterwards,  to  the  universal  wonder  of  society,  she 
married  Mr.  Stodard,  —  a  widower  with  four  chil- 
dren, and  over  sixty  years  of  age.  She  was  then 
twenty-six." 

"  I  suppose  she  married  him  for  his  wealth," 
Olive  said,  somewhat  aggressively. 

"  Oh !  you  don't  like  her,"  answered  Helene. 
"  She  may  have  had  other  reasons,  —  disappoint- 
ment, for  instance."  As  she  chanced  to  look  at 
Pearce,  she  saw  again  upon  his  face  the  same  ex- 
pression of  embarrassment  and  annoyance  that  she 
had  noticed  when  they  met  Mrs.  Stodard. 

"The  fact  is,"  he  said,  "that  Ida  Bayliss  found 
herself  penniless  after  the  death  of  her  father.  He 
was  like  a  good  many  successful  artists,  —  earning 

12 


178  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

money  easily  and  spending  it  freely,  without  a 
thought  for  the  future.  Perhaps  he  counted  upon 
the  remarkable  beauty  of  his  daughter  to  secure 
a  great  match  for  her  ;  anyhow,  as  he  died  early, 
he  left  her  totally  unprovided  for.  After  all,  if 
she  was  ambitious  of  position  and  influence,  she 
got  both  by  being  put  at  the  head  of  so  important 
a  house." 

"  She  looks  clever,"  remarked  He"lene,  desirous 
of  learning  more. 

"  Clever  ?  Oh,  wonderfully  clever  !  "  resumed 
Mrs.  Pearce.  "  Think  of  a  girl  of  twenty-six  assum- 
ing the  responsibility  of  constantly  entertaining  dis- 
tinguished guests,  even  in  her  husband's  absence ! 
for  he  had  to  attend  to  his  business  all  day  long. 
They  received  the  most  celebrated  authors  and 
men  of  science,  not  only  as  occasional  visitors  to 
whom  an  invitation  to  a  dinner-party  is  sent  from 
time  to  time,  but,  like  real  friends,  they  were  asked 
to  stay  in  the  house  sometimes  for  weeks,  and 
found  it  so  pleasant  that  such  invitations  were 
highly  prized  and  sought  after.  Nor  was  this  all. 
You  must  easily  imagine  with  what  sentiments  a 
stepmother  of  that  age  may  be  received  by  her 
husband's  grown-up  children.  Well,  I  don't  know 
what  charms  Mrs.  Stodard  may  have  used  to  make 
herself  not  only  respected,  but  beloved:  however, 
siuh  is  the  fact." 

"She  must  be  endowed  with  infinite  tact,"  said 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  179 

M.  Mold,  "  for  her  position  was  full  of  perils  and 
difficulties." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Mrs.  Pearce  ;  "  but  she  has 
surmounted  them  all.  Public  opinion  was  imme- 
diately won  by  the  amiability  of  an  incomparable 
hostess,  and  the  children  soon  understood  that  it 
was  more  a  gain  than  a  loss  to  them  to  have  such 
an  accomplished  woman  at  the  head  of  the  house, 
who  managed  everything  in  a  way  they  had  to 
acknowledge  far  beyond  their  own  competency. 
And  above  all,  and  as  all  the  world  could  see,  she 
made  her  husband  happy;  he  was  very  proud  of 
her,  and  grateful  for  her  affection.  He  has  left  her 
a  large  fortune,  and  his  sons  said  '  quite  right ' 
when  they  knew  of  it.  She  wished  to  retire  from 
the  house  after  her  husband's  death ;  but  the  sons, 
being  still  unmarried,  have  begged  her  to  remain 
mistress  of  everything  as  she  used  to  be,  and  she 
has  consented.  They  continue  their  father's  im- 
portant trade,  and  were  afraid  of  a  diminution  of 
their  influence  if  they  had  to  abandon  the  hospi- 
table traditions  of  the  house  ;  for  this  reason  there 
has  been  as  little  change  of  habit  as  was  coin] 
ible  with  decency  and  the  respect  due  to  the 
memory  of  Mr.  Stodard." 

"Has  she  any  children  of  her  own  ?  "  asked  M. 
Mold. 

"  No  ;  but  one  of  her  stepdaughters,  being  very 
delicate,  has  not  married    yet,  and   remains  with 


180  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

her.  The  eldest  was  married  two  years  ago  to  a 
partner  in  the  firm ;  she  frequently  comes  to  stay 
with  her  stepmother." 

"  A  really  wonderful  woman  ! "  declared  Jean ; 
"  and  what  I  like  most  in  her,  besides  her  beauty, 
which  I  put  uppermost,  is  the  ease  and  perfect 
grace  with  which  she  bears  it  all,  —  as  if  life  were 
a  perpetual  enjoyment.  I  hate  people  who  look 
wonderful ;  they  are  exceedingly  tiring." 

"  I  am  sure  nothing  could  be  more  gratifying 
than  to  think  we  are  all  pleased  to  accept  Mrs. 
Stodard's  invitation,"  M.  Mold  said,  to  close  the 
subject. 

"Except  Olive,  though,"  He'lene  pointed  out 
mischievously. 

"  She  is  jealous,  I  do  believe,"  added  Pearce. 

"  I  am  not  a  bit  jealous,"  she  answered,  redden- 
ing; "and  if  I  don't  rave  about  Mrs.  Stodard  as 
you  all  seem  to  do,  it 's  because  I  fed  that  she  is 
not  naturally  what  she  appears,  and  that  she  often 
plays  a  part.  I  have  seen  it  sometimes  in  her 
compressed  lips,  or  in  the  vacant  smile  which 
greets  a  series  of  guests,  — gracious,  it  is  ;  yes,  but 
not  true,  for  it  is  the  same  for  every  one, —  in 
a  flitting  expression  of  utter  wretchedness,  soon 
conquered  and  travestied.  ...  I  like  people  to 
look  as  they  feel,  and  Mrs.  Stodard  always  looks 
her  best,  unless  she  forgets  for  a  very  short  time." 
Olive  saw  that  her  cousin  looked  astonished  and 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  181 

far  from  pleased ;  so  she  added :  "  For  all  that,  I 
respect  Mrs.  Stodard  very  much,  and  I  am  very- 
fond  of  being  invited  to  her  house  to  meet  lots 
of  celebrated  people  ;  so  I  shall  be  glad  to  go 
too." 


182  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 


XII. 

The  interval  dividing  the  visit  to  the  Academy 
from  the  dinner  at  Mrs.  Stodard's  was  fully  oc- 
cupied by  endless  sight-seeing.  Jean,  who  was 
equally  fond  of  the  picturesque  and  the  beautiful, 
took  his  father  and  sister  into  the  most  crowded 
thoroughfares,  —  to  Covent  Garden  Market,  to  Bil- 
lingsgate, to  the  wharves.  They  once  went  from 
Kew  to  Blackfriars  Bridge  on  a  steamer  when  all 
the  ships  on  the  Thames  and  all  the  palaces  and 
churches  on  her  shores  were  bathed  in  the  pale 
gold  of  a  mysterious  haze,  and  a  soft  glamour 
spread  to  an  in  Unite  distance  upon  the  whole 
surface  of  the  mighty  river. 

"Is  it  not  glorious?"  asked  Jean,  enthusiasti- 
cally. "But  this  effect  of  light  has  been  my  tor- 
ment ever  since  I  admired  it  for  the  first  time. 
I  have  had  countless  failures  in  my  attempts  to 
record  it." 

"Y«>u  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  dared  to  take 
your  sister  on  those  horrid  steamers,  M.  Jean  !  " 
exclaimed  Mrs.  1'earce  when  the  day's  adventures 
were  related  to  her. 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  183 

"I  must  confess  that  I  did  it,  Mrs.  Pearce, 
and  —  worse  still  —  we  enjoyed  it  amazingly." 

"  But  it 's  so  dirty  ;  and  then  the  people  .  .  ." 

"  Oh !  I  hope  the  reporters  for  the  '  fashionable 
intelligence'  will  overlook  it,"  Jean  said  with  a 
hearty  laugh. 

"  Poor  Helene ! "  sighed  Mrs.  Pearce,  with  real 
commiseration ;  "  he  treats  you  just  like  a  boy." 

"  Oh,  I  can  bear  it ! "  Helene  answered  with  a 
smile  ;  "  I  am  only  a  country  girl  yet." 

It  was  wonderful  to  see  how  the  French  fam- 
ily appreciated  the  English  institution  of  five- 
o'clock  tea.  They  repeatedly  declared  it  refreshing, 
strengthening,  cheering,  and  Jean  said  it  was  even 
"  exhilarating,"  though  he  did  not  require  anything 
in  that  way  ;  it  was  certainly  an  agreeable  moment 
of  rest  and  conversation.  Sometimes  a  few  callers 
joined  their  hostess,  and  at  other  times  they  went 
to  her  friends.  Among  the  select  and  hospitable 
society  of  Kew  it  was  soon  known  that  an  artist 
of  promise,  together  with  his  father,  a  savant,  and 
a  pretty  girl,  his  sister,  were  on  a  visit  to  Mrs. 
Pearce,  and  calls  were  made  and  invitations  given 
in  such  numbers  that  they  hardly  knew  how  to 
keep  all  their  engagements.  It  was  a  memorable 
time  in  the  quiet  life  of  Helene  ;  her  success  seemed 
to  have  a  powerful  effect  upon  Pearce,  for  the  girl 
remarked  with  growing  pain  that  the  degree  of 
interest  he  showed  her  depended  on  the  adniira- 


184  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

tion  she  excited.  When  she  arrived,  a  great  dis- 
illusion awaited  her;  she  had  thought  so  much 
of  their  meeting.  .  .  .  But  he  appeared  to  have 
forgotten  all  that  his  previous  conduct  had  im- 
plied, and  to  regard  her  merely  as  an  acquaintance. 
However,  since  her  beauty  and  talents  had  been 
praised,  since  others  looked  proud  and  happy  to 
turn  the  leaves  of  her  music-book  or  to  carry 
away  her  empty  cup,  he  seemed  to  come  back  to 
the  old  ways  and  to  find  a  certain  pleasure  at  her 
side  and  in  her  conversation.  She  began  to  think 
that  his  own  private  opinion  would  only  be  favor- 
able to  her  so  long  as  society  made  her  welcome 
as  an  ornament,  but  that  he  would  remain  blind 
and  insensible  to  what  was  best  in  her  if  it  were 
not  appreciated  by  the  world.  She  resolved  to 
watch  him  with  unprejudiced  heart  and  impartial 
reason ;  for  she  was  not  one  to  worship  un  dim 
au  pieds  d'argile.  In  the  cruel  moments  of  doubt 
and  suspense,  her  thoughts  reverted  with  tender 
regret  to  the  generous  and  indubitable  love  that 
she  had  not  accepted.  In  that  love  she  would  have 
put  absolute  confidence  and  trust,  —  why  did  she 
not  return  it  ?  .  .  .  Yet  her  own  affection  was  also 
great  and  enduring;  but  surely  it  was  not  love, — 
excitement  and  romance  were  wanting.  .  .  .  But 
why  did  she  feel  that  dull  ache  in  her  heart  when- 
ever she  thought  of  Maxime,  and  why  was  it  grow- 
ing with  his  absence,  instead  of  diminishing  ? 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCHITY.  185 

The  dinner  at  Mrs.  Stodard's,  although  announced 
as  almost  private,  was  in  reality  numerously  at- 
tended. M.  Mold  found  several  distinguished  per- 
sons with  whom  he  could  speak  French,  and  Hedene 
was  greatly  encouraged  in  her  English  attempts  by 
Mr.  John  Stodard,  who  sat  at  her  side  and  looked 
quite  charmed  by  the  modest  ease  of  her  manners. 

Mrs.  Stodard  had  placed  M.  Mole-  on  her  right 
and  Pearce  on  her  left,  and  she  contrived  quite 
naturally  to  ascertain  the  exact  degree  of  intimacy 
between  them.  She  looked  handsomer  than  ever 
by  candle-light,  her  warm,  though  pale  complex- 
ion enhancing  the  lustre  of  the  long  black  eyes 
and  the  delicate  drawing  of  the  thin  red  lips.  She 
led  and  kept  up  a  general  conversation,  without 
gaps,  throughout  the  dinner,  changing  the  subject 
without  apparent  effort  now  and  then,  to  offer  an 
opportunity  to  all  her  guests.  When  the  ladies 
had  retired  into  the  drawing-room,  she  came  to  sit 
between  Olive  and  Helene,  and  made  them  tell  of 
their  life  together  in  France  and  of  their  future 
plans.  Then  she  remarked  how  strange  it  was 
that  two  men  so  dissimilar  as  Pearce  and  Jean 
should,  by  their  friendship,  have  brought  about  the 
intimacy  of  the  two  families. 

"What  makes  you  think  them  so  dissimilar, 
Mrs.  Stodard?"  asked  Olive. 

"  A  great  many  things  ;  but  perhaps  you  would 
not  be  quite  pleased  were  I  to  mention  the  most 
important  in  my  eyes." 


180  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  should  so  much  like  to  hear." 

"  Well,  then,  I  think  you  can  guess  a  great  deal 
of  a  man's  disposition  by  the  objects  or  persons  he 
admires.  Now  I  have  found  out  that  M.  Jean  and 
your  cousin  do  not  usually  bestow  their  admira- 
tion upon  the  same  person." 

Olive  blushed,  and  was  very  much  vexed  with 
herself;  but  He'lene  answered  with  a  little  emotion: 
"  I  have  reason  to  think  that  they  do  sometimes." 

With  a  quick  glance  of  astonishment  Mrs.  Stod- 
arcl  fixed  her  eyes  upon  the  girl's  face  and  said, 
with  a  smile:  "  Then  it  is  a  question  of  degree;" 
and  she  went  to  talk  to  the  other  ladies,  sending 
her  stepdaughter  to  the  girls. 

The  gentlemen  came  back  soon.  There  was 
some  indifferent  music  and  a  good  deal  of  talk,  and 
then  Mrs.  Stodard  asked  Helene  to  play ;  she  com- 
plied immediately.  The  piano  was  a  powerful  in- 
strument of  great  range,  with  warm,  well-sustained 
tones  and  finely  graduated  scope  of  pedals.  Hel- 
lene was  aware  of  this  alter  a  few  arpeggios  with 
which  she  tested  it ;  and  satisfied  as  to  its  qualities, 
she  played  Bummel's  "Bella  Capriciosa"  with 
such  perfection  and  brio  thai  Mrs.  Stodard  herself 
was  charmed,  and  warmly  said  to  EeTene:  "Since 
you  feel  Hummel's  music  and  can  interpret  it  like 
that,  you  must  often  come  here  in  private,  and  we 
will  play  his  sonatas  together.  .  .  .  Would  not  that 
be  a  real  treat?  .  .  .   You  must  promise  me." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  187 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  replied  Helene. 

"  Ah !  hut  wait  till  you  have  heard  me."  She 
sat  at  the  piano  and  selected  a  march  of  Wagner, 
and  afterwards  a  nocturne  by  Chopin  ;  with  a  sort 
of  artistic  coquetry,  she  wished  to  show  Helene 
wThat  she  was  capable  of.  The  dexterity  and 
lightness  of  her  fingers  wTere  marvellous :  some 
notes  of  the  nocturne  seemed  touched  by  a  feather 
and  were  no  louder  than  a  sigh  ;  while  she  put  into 
the  martial,  gaudy-sounding,  bewildering  march  a 
nervousness,  force,  and  originality  truly  wonderful. 
She  was  extremely  seductive  when  she  abandoned 
herself  to  the  fascination  of  music  ;  her  expressive 
face,  the  movements  of  her  graceful  body,  no 
longer  controlled,  reveale  1  new  beauty,  — ■  the  flex- 
ibility of  her  waist  when  she  swayed  from  side  to 
side  ;  the  elegance  of  the  neck  and  of  the  well- 
poised  head  when  she  raised  it  with  a  proud  strain; 
and  the  perfect  form  of  the  supple  and  firm  fingers 
in  ever-varying  positions. 

"Will  you  play  with  me  now  that  you  can 
judge  ?"  she  asked  Helene  with  a  confident  smile, 
entirely  devoid  of  vanity. 

"  I  shall  consider  it  as  a  great  honor,"  replied 
Helene  with  enthusiasm. 

"  No,  not  that ;  let  us  say  it  will  be  a  great 
pleasure  for  both." 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  she  quite  won  M. 
Mold's  heart  by  praising  his  children  to  him.     Her 


188  GOLDEN  MEDIOCRITY. 

French  was  faulty,  but  she  spoke  it  with  a  total  ab- 
sence of  affectation  which  seemed  very  pretty  to 
her  partner,  who,  like  a  great  many  others,  was  not 
far  from  thinking  her  the  most  agreeable  woman 
he  had  ever  met. 

When  Pearce  came  to  her  side  she  playfully 
reproached  him  for  not  having  brought  He'lene  to 
her,  or  even  spoken  a  word  about  her.  "  It 's  I 
who  discovered  your  hidden  treasure,  you  know, 
and  I  owe  you  no  gratitude." 

"She  is  not  my  treasure,  but  I  am  under  some 
obligation  to  her  for  bringing  me  back  aimin  to 
your  side;  it  is  a  long  time  since  I  was  so  fortunate 
as  to  receive  an  invitation." 

Mrs.  Stodard's  black  eyes  flashed  between  her 
long  eyelashes,  but  she  answered  quietly :  "  "We 
were  in  deep  mourning,  you  know.  .  .  .  With 
what  feeling  Mademoiselle  Mold  plays  !"  she  pur- 
sued. "Do  you  think  she  surpassed  herself  to-night, 
or  is  she  always  equal  to  that  ?  " 

"Oh!  I  don't  know;  I  did  not  think  much  of 
her,  except  in  relation  to  you.  I  wondered  what 
might  be  the  cause  of  your  sudden  fancy  for  her; 
I  thought  you  were  rather  exclusive  in  your 
likings,  hitherto." 

"  It  is  not  a  fancy,  it  is  interest  and  sympathy 
I  feel  for  her.  Does  it  strike  you  as  strange  ?  .  .  .  I 
should  have  thought  that  you  naturally  shared  those 
sentiments,  after  having  known  her  some  time." 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  189 

"  I  certainly  like  all  the  members  of  the  family," 
Pearce  answered  cautiously. 

"  No  doubt !  .  .  .  But  as  I  was  saying  to  her 
after  dinner,  about  the  admiration  of  men,  it  is  a 
question  of  degree ;  for  they  can  admire  and  like 
several  women  at  the  same  time." 

"  One  is  always  above  all  others,  as  you  know  ; 
and  Mademoiselle  Mole*  is  not  that  one  for  me,"  he 
said  low  and  significantly. 

"  Oh !  I  am  very  sorry  for  you  indeed  ! "  Mrs. 
Stodard  replied  with  a  light  laugh.  "  I  had  imag- 
ined such  a  pretty  romance,  —  you  had  fallen  in 
love  with  a  beautiful,  clever,  and  modest  French 
girl,  who  admired  you  immensely,  and  after  hid- 
ing your  idyl  in  the  mystery  of  the  country  for 
some  time,  you  proudly  brought  your  foreign  bride 
among  us  as  a  prize ;  you  were  congratulated  and 
envied,  and  each  new  work  increased  your  celeb- 
rity, because  it  had  been  conceived  with  increased 
happiness.  And  now  do  you  tell  me  that  there  is 
nothing  in  it  ?  .  .  ." 

"  Absolutely  nothing." 

"  What  a  pity  !  "  .she  said,  rising  slowly. 

"Don't  go  yet.  I  also  imagine  pretty  romances 
sometimes ;  let  me  tell  you  only  one  chapter." 

"It  would  be  of  no  earthly  use,  I  am  not  in 
the  firm,"  she  answered  dryly ;  and  the  graceful 
undulations  of  her  walk  as  she  went  to  her  other 
guests  gave  no  token  of  her  agitation. 


190  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

From  this  day  Hedene  frequently  went  to  Mrs. 
Stodard's  to  play  with  her,  or  to  be  taken  to  a  con- 
cert, Mrs.  Pearce  willingly  relinquishing  her  rights 
in  such  circumstances, — 'her  love  of  music  being 
limited  "  to  gay  and  spirited  pieces,"  she  said.  Mrs. 
Stodard  also  took  her  young  friend  to  some  re- 
nowned aesthetic  people  and  houses,  and  was  very 
much  amused  by  her  remarks  and  observations. 
She  said  frankly  that  some  of  the  feminine  es- 
thetes' toilettes  were  very  pretty,  and  some  (espe- 
cially the  unmitigated  scarlet)  almost  ridiculous, 
and  that  her  impression  when  she  was  in  the 
midst  of  so  many  different  styles,  without  a  fea- 
ture in  common,  was  of  being  at  a  fancy-ball. 
She  also  showed  a  lively  interest  in  the  modern 
arrangement  of  the  houses;  she  declared  they 
were  infinitely  more  amusing  to  the  eye  and  im- 
agination, with  their  great  variety,  than  those  of 
France,  which  had  no  revelation  in  store,  no  im- 
jprevu.  In  England  you  never  knew  whether  the 
next  room  Mould  be  square,  or  round,  or  angu- 
lar, whether  the  ceiling  would  lie  level  or  not,  and 
whether  you  would  have  to  go  down  or  to  ascend 
to  the  iloor.  The  windows  especially  were  delight- 
ful.—  her  favorites  being  the  bow-windows  in  a 
recess  and  the  latticed  ones  in  unexpected  corners. 
She  never  ceased  admiring  the  beautiful  harmony 
of  colors  and  pretty  designs  of  the  carpets  ;  but  she 
avowed  being  sick  of  cheap  Japanese  fans,  trays, 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  191 

or  plates,  always  the  same,  wherever  she  went, 
and  she  made  no  reserve  in  favor  of  a  very  famous 
illustrated  Japanese  book  which  she  had  been 
called  upon  to  admire  as  a  very  rare  specimen  in 
about  a  dozen  different  houses  in  the  course  of  a 
fortnight. 

She  was  making  rapid  progress  with  her  Eng- 
lish, now  that  she  spoke  it  continually ;  but  there 
again  she  had  endured  a  bitter  disappointment  at 
Pearce's  hands.     At  first  she  had  expected  that  he 
would  be  pleased  to  converse  with  her  in  his  own 
Language  ;  but  she  soon  made  the  painful  discovery 
that  he  winced  at  the  most  trifling  fault  she  com- 
mitted, and  that  instead  of  being  amused  by  her 
inevitable  mistakes,  as  other  people  were,  he  ap- 
peared angry  and  ashamed  when  they  occurred  in 
public.     This  made  her  very  reluctant  to    speak 
English  in  his  presence;    and  when  obliged  to  do 
so    she  could    not    help   watching  —  almost  fear- 
fully—  the  expression  of  his  face,  by   which  she 
became  aware  instantaneously  of  an  error  either 
in  grammar  or  pronunciation.    Some  of  these  errors 
were   a  great  source   of   innocent    merriment   for 
Olive  and  Jean,  and  they  contrived  snares  to  make 
their  victim  fall  again  and  again  into  them.     For 
instance,  Jean  would  ask  his  sister  what  she  had 
been  doing  in  the  afternoon,  after  Olive  had  told 
him   privately   that   they    had    made   some    pur- 
chases,  and    Hedene    replied    that    she    had    been 


192  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  chopping  "  (shopping) ;  or  else  he  would  pretend 
to  send  with  her  fowl  a  large  slice  of  ham,  to  make 
her  say,  "  only  a  very  little  beast "  (bit),  for  she 
could  not  yet  easily  manage  the  short  i.  Sometimes 
Olive  begged  her  to  pass  the  tongs  when  they  were 
on  Mrs.  Pearce's  side,  to  hear  her  say:  "  Please,  Mrs. 
Pearce,  Olive  wants  the  tongues,"  and  so  on.  When 
the}r  merrily  laughed,  and  she  was  told  the  rea- 
son, she  joined  in  the  laughter ;  but  when  she  saw 
Pearce's  look  of  annoyance  she  felt  as  if  she  had 
committed  a  great  wrong,  and  once  in  particular 
she  was  quite  hurt  by  what  she  overheard.  She 
was  sitting  in  her  room  near  the  open  window, 
which  looked  down  upon  the  garden,  and  Pearce 
had  just  come  back  from  London,  and  was  look- 
ing at  some  flowers,  when  Olive  ran  towards 
him  and  said  :  "  Oh  !  Henry,  I  have  such  a  capi- 
tal story  to  tell  you  about  Hdlene  !  .  .  .  I  can't 
help  laughing  even  now,  when  I  think  of  it.  This 
morning  was  rather  chilly,  and  the  fire  had  been 
smouldering  in  the  grate.  I  put  a  few  sticks  into 
it,  but  they  gave  more  smoke  than  sparks,  when 
Hi'lone,  with  her  grave  face,  asked  her  brother  '  to 
give  her  a  box  on  the  ear.'  We  both  looked  up 
wondering;  but  he  readily  complied  villi  her  re- 
quest, and  you  may  imagine  how  taken  aback  she 
was!  .  .  .  Then  he  told  her  that  his  curiosity 
would  l»e  mightily  gratified  by  the  explanation  of 
her  commands;  and  it  tinned  out  that  she  meant 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  193 

to  ask  for  the  bellows  (soufflet),  and  she  had  sought 
it  out  in  the  dictionary  and  found  '  a  box  on  the 
ear,'  which  she  had  translated  une  boite  a  air,  of 
course.  I  wish  you  had  seen  her  when  M.  Jean 
boxed  her  ear ;  she  evidently  thought  he  had  gone 
out  of  his  mind !  .  .  ."  and  Olive  relapsed  into 
her  fit  of  laughter.  But  Pearce  was  not  even 
tickled,  and  he  said,  with  undisguised  ill-humor : 
"  Silly  things  had  better  be  forgotten  than  re- 
peated ;"  and  he  went  indoors. 

"I  see  clearly  now,"  thought  Hdlene  with  a 
pang,  "  that  his  love  will  be  so  mixed  with  pride 
that  it  may  become  a  torment  to  be  loved  by  him. 
If  the  woman  he  shall  select  as  superior  to  others, 
not  only  in  his  own  eyes,  but  also  in  those  of  the 
world,  were  not  very  careful  always  to  play  the 
part  assigned  to  her ;  if  she  betrayed  some  little 
inferiority ;  if  she  confessed  ignorance  on  any  point; 
even  if  her  beauty  diminished  with  illness,  or  faded 
with  age,  —  woe  to  her !  .  .  .  She  would  no  longer 
be  an  ornament  to  be  sported,  but  an  encumbrance 
to  be  ashamed  of." 

It  had  been  arranged  that  on  the  morrow  116- 
lene  and  her  father,  after  spending  the  afternoon 
in  the  National  Gallery,  should  have  tea  at  Mrs. 
Stodard's,  where  Pearce  was  to  join  them,  in  order 
to  go  back  to  Kew  together. 

Mrs.  Stodard  happened  to  be  quite  alone, —  a 
very  rare  occurrence,  her  stepdaughter  having  gone 

13 


194  GOLDEN    MEDIOCEITY. 

to  stay  with  a  sister  for  a  little  while.  The  draw- 
ing-room, darkened  by  the  heavy  curtains  of  moss- 
colored  velvet,  had  a  mysterious  appearance ; 
some  water-colors  by  Samuel  Palmer  glowed 
like  jewels  on  the  walls ;  a  strong  intoxicating 
perfume  filled  the  room,  wafted  by  a  southern 
breeze  from  the  blooming  hyacinths  on  the  win- 
dow-sill, and  the  graceful  form  of  Mrs.  Stodard 
reclined  upon  a  low  couch,  perfectly  motion- 
less, when  Pearce  entered.  He  perceived  what 
the  maid  had  overlooked,  —  that  Mrs.  Stodard  was 
asleep ;  and  he  advanced  with  cautious  steps 
towards  the  couch,  admiring  in  silence  the  beau- 
tiful outline  of  the  face,  softly  detached  on  the 
sombre  pillow,  and  the  lithe  grace  of  the  attitude. 
When  he  had  almost  reached  the  couch,  the  rapid 
flash  of  diamonds  and  sapphires  made  him  aware 
that  a  white  hand  was  extended  to  him  ;  and  as  he 
took  it,  a  clear,  light  voice  said  :  "You  caught  me 
napping,  I  must  confess  it.  I  hope  you  will  ex- 
cuse me.  I  suppose  it  is  all  the  fault  of  the  hya- 
cinths, and  I  am  doomed  to  a  dreadful  headache 
to-night.  I  beg  your  pardon  for  receiving  you 
in  so  dark  a  place ;  I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  late  ! 
But  I  will  ring  for  lights,  that  we  may  be  able  'to 
see  the  color  of  our  words,'  as  the  French  say." 
Mrs.  Stodard  always  chose  to  talk  with  a  certain 
degree  of  levity  when  she  was  alone  with  Pearce; 
it  seemed  as  if  .she  were  afraid  of  a  serious  turn  of 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  195 

conversation.     He  was  fully  aware  of  it,  and  had 
often  been  vexed,  though  he  tried  to  disguise  it. 

"  Let  me  rather  open  the  window  opposite  and 
shut  out  the  hyacinths,"  he  said ;  "  it  will  change 
the  air  of  the  room,  and  I  trust  you  will  be  spared 
the  headache."  At  the  same  time  he  did  what  he 
had  proposed ;  he  dreaded  to  see  a  blaze  of  light 
in  the  mysterious  temple  of  the  idol  he  had  just 
contemplated,  and  he  felt  as  if  the  growing  ob- 
scurity established  a  greater  degree  of  intimacy 
between  them.  When  lie  came  back  he  did  not 
sit  opposite  to  her,  but  took  the  chair  nearest  to 
the  couch. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Stodard,  "  what  has  hap- 
pened, that  M.  Mole"  and  his  daughter  are  so 
late  ? " 

"  Nothing  of  any  consequence,  I  daresay ;  but 
why  always  talk  of  that  girl  to  me  ?  Do  you  think 
I  shall  submit  to  be  robbed  of  my  present  happi- 
ness by  the  thought  of  others  than  you  ?  You  can- 
not expect  it,  Ida ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stodard 
in  a  voice  stifled  by  emotion.  "  I  forbid  you  to  call 
me  by  that  name  ;  you  have  no  right  to  do  it.  For 
you,  as  for  any  one  else,  T  am  Mrs.  Stodard"  She 
had  risen  indignantly  ;  but  he  put  himself  in  front 
of  her  and  replied, — 

'"I  beg  your  pardon.  It  is  true  that  I  had  no  righl 
to  call  you  Ida,  as  of  old ;  but  listen  to  me.     Of 


196  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

course  you  have  nothing  to  fear  ;  I  respect  you  too 
much  to  say  anything  which  might  hurt,  or  even 
alarm  you.  Still,  to-day  or  another  day,  you  must 
hear  what  I  have  to  tell,  —  why  not  now  ?  " 

Thinking  that  she  could  not  always  avoid  him, 
and  that  perhaps  it  was  better  to  have  an  imme- 
diate explanation,  she  sat  down  again  witli  great 
apparent  composure,  and  said,  in  as  chilling  a 
manner  as  she  could  master:  "Well,  then,  I 
listen." 

"  Perhaps  you  have  not  entirely  forgotten  a  time 
when  we  were  near  neighbors,  and  when  I  called 
you  Ida  and  you  called  me  Henry  ?  .  .  ."  resumed 
Pearce  in  a  less  steady  voice. 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  any  tiling." 

"You  were  aware  even  then  of  my  love  for 
you ;  but  perhaps  you  were  not  aware  of  its  inten- 
sity and  of  the  pain  your  marriage  caused  me.  I 
tried  to  stifle  it  when  you  belonged  to  another,  and 
my  sense  of  honor  was  great  enough  to  make  me 
believe  that  I  had  succeeded.  ...  I  did  not  ques- 
tion my  heart,  I  locked  it.  .  .  .  P>ut  when  circum- 
stances made  you  free,  a  powerful  hope  burst  it 
open  again,  and  it  revived  and  claimed  its  share 
of  happiness.  I  have  now  learned  that  my  love  for 
you  is  as  strong  as  it  was  seven  years  ago,  and 
that  I  cannot  be  happy  without  you.  .  .  .  And 
now,  Ida,  will  you  be  my  wife?" 

"  No,  I  cannot  be  your  wife."     This  was  said  in 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  197 

such  a  very  determined  manner  that  Pearce  was 
terribly  wounded ;  but  he  would  not  accept  it  as 
a  final  answer. 

"  Was  I  wrong  to  believe,  then,  that  seven  years 
ago  I  was  not  alone  to  love  ?  Did  I  misunder- 
stand your  blushes  and  your  emotion  when  we 
met  ?  .  .  .  I  flattered  myself  that  I  was  not  indif- 
ferent to  you,  and  this  hope  augmented  my  love ; 
tell  me  now  if  it  was  all  an  illusion.  Tell  me 
the  truth." 

"The  truth!  You  want  the  truth?  Well,  I 
will  tell  it  you,"  answered  Mrs.  Stodard,  whose 
self-possession  seemed  to  have  forsaken  her.  She 
rose  and  walked  rapidly  about  the  room,  uttering 
her  sentences  with  cutting  decision.  "No,"  she 
pursued,  "  you  were  not  mistaken ;  there  was  a 
girl  to  whom  you  made  love  in  every  conceivable 
way,  in  looks  and  manner,  by  subtle  flattery,  deli- 
cate attentions,  tender  sighs,  and  the  like,  —  not  in 
words,  it  is  true ;  you  were  careful  enough  never 
to  endanger  your  liberty.  I  suppose  it  was  rather 
agreeable  to  your  vanity  to  know  that  you  were 
loved  by  a  girl  who  was  admired  in  society ;  but 
that  sufficed  you,  for  .she  was  poor,  and  your  pas- 
sion did  not  cany  you  so  far  as  to  allow  you  to 
make  her  your  wife.  And  so,  after  she  had  waited 
and  waited  for  the  offer  which  never  came,  the  girl, 
almost  broken-hearted,  was  constrained  by  circum- 
stances to  marry;  and  as  you  told  me  yourself,  you 


198  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

locked  your  heart,  —  an  exceedingly  convenient 
process.  But  seven  years  later,  the  girl  having 
acquired  a  conspicuous  position  in  the  world  and  a 
fortune,  you  unlocked  your  heart  and  offered,  with 
your  name  this  time,  the  mummy-love  which  had 
lain  so  quiet  there ;  and  you  seem  astonished  that 
this  precious  gift  should  be  declined." 

"  You  are  very  cruel  and  unjust,  Mrs.  Stodard," 
replied  Pearce,  smarting  under  her  sneers ;  "  and  I 
did  not  expect  that  the  offer  of  my  name  would 
furnish  a  subject  to  your  satire." 

"  But  do  you  not  understand  that  it  is  presump- 
tion on  your  part  ?  .  .  .  What  have  you  to  oiler 
me  now  ?  A  love  so  weak  that  it  could  not  bal- 
ance my  want  of  fortune  ;  a  position  in  society. 
.  .  .  Is  it  above  mine?  A  name,  —  which  of  our 
names  is  the  better  known  ?  " 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  proposing  a  bargain,  and  I 
candidly  avow  that  the  point  of  view  from  which 
you  judge  my  conduct  nearly  paralyzes  me.  I 
hardly  know  what  to  say  to  one  so  prejudiced 
against  me.  Seven  years  ago  I  could  not  possibly 
marry  a  girl  without  a  fortune.  It  would  have 
been  the  destruction  of  all  my  future  hopes  of  an 
eminent  position;  it  would  have  dragged  me  down 
the  social  scale,  and  probably  kept,  me  there.  I 
thought  it  better  for  both  of  us  to  sacrifice  my 
love,  and  I  think  so  still,  in  spite  of  your  ungener- 
ous j  udgment." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  109 

"  It  is  a  pity  that  these  wise  considerations 
should  not  have  made  you  abstain  from  all  en- 
deavors to  win  the  affections  of  a  girl  that  you 
were  determined  not  to  marry." 

"Just  as  it  would  have  been  better  to  abstain 
from  all  endeavors  to  revive  a  tender  feeling 
turned  into  hatred,  had  I  known  it ;  however,  my 
excuse  remains  with  my  love  in  both  cases,  —  it  is 
not  always  possible  to  master  the  heart's  longings. 
How  could  I  foresee  that  my  suit  would  rouse  your 
anger  ? " 

"  I  bear  you  no  hatred,  I  feel  for  you  as  for  an 
old  acquaintance  so  long  as  the  past  remains  un- 
stirred and  forgotten ;  but  when  I  remember  the 
cruel  pain  due  to  your  selfishness,  and  when  I 
think  you  may  still  inflict  the  same  upon  some 
other  innocent  and  tender  heart,  —  perhaps  upon 
one  in  which  I  have  interested  myself,  —  I  think 
it  is  my  duty  to  warn  your  obdurate  conscience 
and  to  open  your  reluctant  eyes  to  the  egotism 
of  your  conduct.  I  may  perhaps  prevent  another 
misfortune." 

"I  ...  I  don't  know  at  all  what  you  mean  !" 
stammered  Pearce,  terribly  embarrassed. 

"Don't  you?  .  .  .  Then  I  must  explain.  You 
noticed  that  I  had  taken  a  great  liking  for  Made- 
moiselle Mol£;  and  my  solicitude  makes  me  fear 
that  she  is  in  some  clanger  of  being  treated 
as  I  have  been.     This  I  will  not  allow,  without 


200  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

at   least   making   an  attempt  to  put  her  on  her 
guard." 

"  She  is  jealous,"  thought  Pearce  ;  "  here  is  the 
explanation  of  her  conduct.  Nothing  is  lost."  .  .  . 
"This  would  be  very  generous  on  your  part  if  there 
existed  the  least  danger  for  your  protegee ;  but  I 
assure  you,  on  my  honor,  that  she  is  not  threatened 
in  any  way.  Come,  Mrs.  Stodard,  hear  me,  and 
I  will  make  a  clean  breast  of  it." 

When  she  had  complied  with  his  request,  he 
continued :  "  Of  course  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I 
have  been  completely  insensible  to  Mademoiselle 
Mold's  beauty  and  charms,  I  believe  no  man 
would  be ;  and  when  I  lived  in  France  near  her, 
and  when  I  saw  her  frequently,  I  tried  to  persuade 
myself  that  perhaps  she  might  help  me  to  forget 
the  old,  hopeless  love  (you  were  not  free  then)  and 
become  a  source  of  new  happiness.  My  reason 
told  me  that  it  would  not  be  the  match  expected 
for  me  by  society ;  that  the  girl,  though  certainly 
possessing  great  qualities,  was  entirely  devoid  of 
those  striking  charms  and  talents  which  place  a 
woman  above  others  by  general  assent ;  that  she 
was  not  sufficiently  ambitious  of  social  distinction 
to  strive  fur  it.  Still,  I  tried  to  dream  my  dream 
and  to  fancy  that  it  was  real ;  but  as  soon  as  I 
was  out  of  dreamland,  I  awoke.  When  I  saw 
you  again,  when  I  knew  that  hope  was  no  longer 
forbidden,  I   realized   that   my   heart  would   not 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  201 

be  coaxed  into  loving  any  one  but  you,  and  that 
every  attempt  would  prove  a  miserable  failure. 
And  now  you  know  the  worst.  You  know  all, 
except  that  I  have  never  said  a  word  of  love  to 
Mademoiselle  Mold,  and  that  my  behavior  since 
we  met  again  must  clearly  have  indicated  the 
nature  of  my  sentiments.  In  order  to  calm  all 
your  apprehensions,  I  may  perhaps  go  so  far  as  to 
confide  to  you  that  I  suspect  a  certain  Marquis, 
living  at  a  little  distance  from  M.  Mold,  of  having 
greater  pretensions  over  the  heart  of  Mademoiselle 
Hdlene  than  any  I  ever  had." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Stodard,  with  a  great  sigh  of 
relief,  "  I  hope  it  is  so." 

"Nay,"  replied  Pearce,  somewhat  encouraged, 
"  you  promised  to  believe,  not  merely  to  hope ;  and 
you  must  also  acknowledge  that  I  am  not  such 
a  black  sheep  as  you  represented  me.  Shall  there 
be  sweet  peace  between  us  ?  .  .  ." 

"  There  will  be  truce,  —  armed  truce,"  said 
Mrs.  Stodard,  ringing  the  bell  ;  "  and  I  shall 
give  you  a  cup  of  tea  in  token  of  cessation  of 
hostilities." 

"I  remain,  then,  under  the  ban  of  suspicion  ?  " 

But  he  had  to  cut  short  his  expostulation,  as 
lights  and  tea  were  brought  in  just  when  M.  Mold 
and  his  daughter  arrived.  They  had  been  detained 
by  a  slight  carriage-accident,  but  were  none  the 
worse  except  for  a  little  emotion.    Their  horse  had 


202  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

become  unmanageable,  and  had  only  been  stopped 
after  taking  them  out  of  their  way. 

Pearce  would  have  liked  to  persuade  Mrs.  Stod- 
ard  to  grant  him  better  terms,  and  he  thought 
he  could  have  achieved  his  object  had  he  been 
left  alone  with  her  a  little  longer.  But  he  hud 
to  bide  his  time  till  the  next  opportunity;  and 
after  M.  Mold  and  Hdlene  had  spent  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  in  pleasant  conversation  with  Mrs.  Stodard, 
he  accompanied  them  back  to  Kew. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  203 


XIII. 

M.  Mold's  visit  to  England  was  drawing  to  its 
close,  and  it  was  with  very  different  feelings  that 
Jean  and  Hdlene  thought  of  it.  In  spite  of  the 
pleasure  she  had  had  during  her  stay,  of  all  the 
new  sources  of  interest  opened  to  her,  of  her 
success  in  society,  Hdlene  felt  a  sort  of  weariness, 
a  disenchantment,  which  made  her  long  to  resume 
her  usual  calm  life.  She  had  seen  Pearce  fre- 
quently at  Mrs.  Stodard's  side,  and  his  anxiety 
to  please  had  not  escaped  her,  any  more  than  his 
efforts  to  shine  as  much  as  possible  in  her  pres- 
ence by  his  conversation  or  the  display  of  his 
varied  culture  and  knowledge.  Mrs.  Stodard  had 
not  treated  him  as  if  she  meant  to  forbid  all  hope; 
she  had  thought  that  in  the  bitterness  of  disillu- 
sion Hdlene  might  find  a  tonic,  and  she  allured 
Pearce  to  betray  himself  before  her  eyes.  The 
means  had  been  efficacious,  the  cure  was  obtained; 
but  the  dreary  weariness  that  accompanied  it  was 
very  painful,  and  Hdlene  now  wanted  to  rest. 

As  to  Jean,  he  always  found  some  reason  for 
staying  a  little  longer,  —  there  were  so  many  things 


204  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

that  his  father  or  his  sister  had  not  yet  seen ;  but 
M.  Mole*  at  last  told  him  that  they  could  not  re- 
main forever  at  Mrs.  Pearce's,  and  besides  he  had 
received  several  pressing  letters  from  M.  de  Civray, 
asking  him  to  come  back  as  soon  as  he  could, 
because  his  mother  was  dangerously  ill  and  he 
might  at  any  time  require  advice.  They  must, 
then,  prepare  for  their  departure. 

When  Olive  heard  of  it  she  was  thrown  into  a 
state  of  consternation.  It  seemed  as  if  it  were  a 
totally  unlooked-for  event,  a  sudden  misfortune ; 
and  she  told  Hdlene,  with  many  tears,  that  she 
could  not  get  reconciled  to  the  idea  of  their 
parting. 

"  I  hope  it  won't  be  for  long,"  answered  He'lene, 
with  a  smile.  "You  must  convince  your  aunt 
that  the  climate  of  Champignol  is  necessary  to 
her  health,  and  that  she  will  escape  from  lots  of 
troubles  by  coming  again  to  the  same  place." 

"  Of  course  I  shall  use  all  my  powers  of  persua- 
sion ;  but  suppose  my  aunt  had  some  other  plan 
for  the  vacations  ? " 

"Well,  in  that  case  we  had  better  ask  Jean 
what  we  ought  to  do.  He  never  lacks  an  ingeni- 
ous idea,  he  is  full  of  resources  and  stratagems. 
You  admired,  T  suppose,  the  clever  way  in  which 
he  persuaded  my  father  that  coming  to  England 
would  be  the  very  best  thing  for  his  studies ;  I 
should  not  wonder  if  he  said  that  the  next  best 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  205 

thing  was  for  him  to  stay  till  it's  time  to  work 
from  Nature  in  the  autumn,  when  there  is  a  chance 
of  Miss  Olive  being  at  Champignol." 

"  Oh,  you  naughty  Helene  ! "  cried  Olive,  blush- 
ing to  her  neck  and  hiding  her  face. 

"  Are  you  quarrelling  ? "  asked  Jean,  who  had 
just  caught  Olive's  exclamation  as  he  entered  the 
room.  "  What  have  you  done,  Hedeue,  to  deserve 
to  be  called  naughty?" 

"Don't  tell  him  ! "  Olive  interposed  impetuously. 

"  I  shall  leave  it  to  you  to  tell  him,  while  I 
write  to  Hainan,"  said  HeTene,  who  left  the  room 
before  Olive  was  aware  of  her  intention. 

"  It  is  all  very  mysterious,  and  I  delight  in 
mysteries.  Shall  I  be  admitted  into  the  secret  ? 
What  is  it  ?  "  Jean  asked  confidently. 

"There  is  neither  secret  nor  mystery,"  Olive 
answered,  still  as  red  as  a  rose,  and  a  little  con- 
fused. "  We  were  only  talking  of  ...  of  Hdlene's 
departure,  and  .  .  .  and  I  was  telling  her  how 
sorry  I  was;  that  I  could  .  .  .  hardly  bear  .  .  ." 
The  faltering  voice  was  lust  in  a  low  sob. 

"  You  are  not  the  only  one  to  grieve  at  the 
separation,  Miss  Olive,"  said  Jean  with  great  de- 
liberation. "Look  at  me,  now!  I  never  thought 
I  could  become  such  an  idiot;  but  the  tact  is  I 
take  no  interest  in  anything  since  I  realize  that 
we  are  to  go  back  without  you.  The  whole  of 
my  intellect  is  concentrated  upon  the  discovery  of 


206  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

a  fresh  excuse  for  staying  another  day,  and  that 
day  is  spoiled  by  the  apprehension  of  the  morrow. 
You  are  laughing  at  me  now,  and  I  dou't  know 
what  I  was  going  to  say ;  but  it  comes  to  this  that 
I  cannot  bear  to  be  separated  from  you  now  for 
any  length  of  time.  You  say  you  cannot  bear  to 
be  separated  from  Hdlene ;  then  why  should  there 
be  any  separation  ?  " 

Olive  opened  her  blue  eyes  very  wide,  and  stood 
listening. 

"  You  must  be  aware  that  I  love  you  with  all 
my  soul.  I  could  not  help  it,  even  when  I  believed 
that  Pearce  was  your  ideal,  and  I  have  loved  you 
still  more  after  I  was  undeceived ;  but  I  never 
dared  to  tell  it  to  you." 

"  But  it  seems  as  if  you  dared  to-day,"  remarked 
Olive,  with  cheerful  laughter. 

"  To-day  I  am  compelled  by  circumstances.  I 
can't  go  away  without  learning  what  you  think 
of  it." 

No  answer  came;  Olive  had  cast  her  eyes  down 
and  looked  very  demure. 

"Now,  Miss  Olive,"  pursued  Jean,  drawing 
nearer,  "  I  beseech  you  to  say  something  encour- 
aging, else  I  shall  go  distracted.  Only  think  how 
pleasant  it  would  be,  if  instead  of  our  going,  each 
his  own  way,  never  perhaps  to  meet  again,  you 
sent  me  off  as  your  betrothed  and  wrote  to  me 
very  pleasant  letters  during  a  very  short  separation, 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  207 

then  came  back  to  Champignol  in  the  autumn  to 
settle  everything  about  our  marriage  ?  .  .  ."  He 
took  her  willing  hand  and  looked  into  her  brimful 
eyes.  "  Will  you  accept  me,  Olive,  for  a  true  and 
devoted  husband  who  will  try  to  make  you  the 
happiest  little  wife  in  the  world  ? " 

"Yes,  I  will,"  Olive  murmured  softly;  "for  I 
also  love  you." 

"  Oh,  Olive,  what  an  enviable  young  couple  we 
are  soin^  to  be !  How  stupid  to  marry  late,  and 
let  the  best  years  of  one's  life  slip  away  when  they 
could  be  spent  in  happiness  ! . . ."  and  he  kissed  her. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  are  very  young  and  very  fool- 
ish;  at  any  rate  people  will  think  so  of  us.  .  .  . 
Henry,  for  instance.  Oh,  I  shall  not  dare  to 
breathe  a  word  of  it  to  him  !" 

"I  don't  think  we  are  foolish,  Olive;  on  the 
contrary.  Pearce  and  the  world  will  of  course 
accuse  us  of  thoughtlessness ;  but  I  shall  never 
care  a  fig  for  their  united  wisdom  so  long  as  this 
pretty  little  mouth  says  it  loves  me.  And  it  will 
say  it  again,  won't  it,  very  often  ? " 

"  Yes,  dear,  very,  very  often,"  she  answered,  as 
she  pressed  herself  close  to  him  with  charming 
confidence;  "but  I  don't  see  at  all  that  we  can 
ever  be  married,  however  great  our  love  may  be. 
You  know  that  I  have  no  fortune,  ami  as  to  your 
position  .  .  ." 

"Oh!    my  position   will    be    very    fine    in    the 


208  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

future.  ...  I  mean  to  be  a  great  painter  and  to 
work  bard,  particularly  now  tbat  I  have  to  win 
my  wife ;  still,  I  am  afraid  your  aunt  won't  con- 
sider tbat  a  very  satisfactory  settlement  for  you. 
.  .  .  This  is  wbat  I  should  propose:  first,  to  keep 
our  delightful  little  secret  to  ourselves  till  I  know 
the  fate  of  my  pictures  in  the  Salon.  If  I  had 
the  luck  to  get  a  medal,  it  might  bring  me  some 
commissions,  and  I  should  begin  to  be  somebody; 
then  I  would  tell  my  mother  of  our  engagement 
and  take  her  advice.    What  do  you  say,  Olive  dear  ? " 

"  I  think  it 's  very  wise  .  .  .  but  oh !  Madame 
Mold  will  have  such  a  bad  opinion  of  me.  It's 
so  different  from  your  pre-arranged  French  mar- 
riages. .  .  .  Won't  she  think  me  a  desperate  flirt 
to  have  accepted  her  son's  love  from  himself,  and 
not  from  my  aunt  ? " 

"  My  mother  knows  you  too  well  now  to  enter- 
tain tbe  slightest  disparaging  doubt  about  your 
character.  I  even  trust  that  she  will  approve  my 
choice.  The  only  trouble  we  shall  have;  will  be 
when  people  ask,  according  to  their  intolerable 
meddlesome  ways,  'What  on  earth  do  they  mean 
to  live  upon?'  If  ever  they  put  the  indiscreet 
question  to  me,  I  shall  answer  them  with  the 
well-known  song, — 

"  '  Eh  bien  !  nous  acheterona 
I'm'  petite  soupiere  ; 
Aveo  la  merae  cuillere 
Toua  lea  deux  nous  mange  rons." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  209 

"Perhaps  I  have  money  enough  to  start  our 
menage  with,"  Olive  said,  laughing  to  see  Jean  so 
happy ;  "  and  we  must  be  very  economical  at  first 
until  you  are  celebrated.  I  can  do  many  things 
now,  you  '11  see." 

"  Ah  !  so  can  I.  ...  I  can  sew  my  buttons  when 
they  come  off,  and  I  have  a  remarkable  talent 
for  the  lio-htiuo;  of  fires  and  broiling  of  cutlets.  I 
shall  help  you." 

They  burst  into  a  fit  of  merry  laughter,  which 
was  not  yet  over  when  Helene  came  back  with 
her  letter  left  open.  "  I  wished  to  know  whether 
you  had  anything  particular  to  say  to  Maman 
before  I  closed  my  letter  ? "  she  said  to  her 
brother. 

"  Not  yet,  thank  you.  .  .  ." 

"  How,  not  yet  ?  .  .  ."  asked  Hdlene  with  a 
smile. 

"Oh,  He'lene!"  cried  Olive,  encircling  her 
friend's  shoulders  with  her  arms,  and  hiding  her 
face  in  her  bosom,  "  I  won't  have  any  secret  from 
you ;  I  am  to  be  your  sister  ! " 

"  I  love  you  already  as  a  sister,  sweet ;  but  my 
brother's  affection  will  render  you  twice  as  dear." 
She  gave  her  a  tender  kiss  on  the  forehead.  "And 
I  thank  you,  Jean,"  she  continued,  "for  giving 
me  such  a  sweet  sister."  She  held  out  her  hand 
to  him  and  he  pressed  it  warmly. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  have  done  to  deserve  the 

14 


210  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

best  girls  in  the  world  for  wife  and  sister/'  lie  said 
with  great  emotion ;  "  but  I  mean  to  be  worthy  of 
both." 

He'lene  was  told  next  that  the  engagement  was 
to  be  kept  secret  for  some  time,  and  her  opinion 
was  in  favor  of  this  resolution.  Jean  must  have 
something  to  offer  before  he  presumed  to  ask  Mrs. 
Pearce  for  her  niece's  hand.  "  I  must  go  and 
post  my  letter  now,"  said  Helene;  "there  is  barely 
time.  But  was  I  not  right  to  predict  that  Jean 
would  find  out  some  means  of  bringing  you  to 
Champignol  again,  eh  !  Olive  ?"  And  she  left  the 
two  lovers  to  mature  their  plans. 

Mrs.  Pearce,  who  had  sometimes  been  afraid 
that  He'lene  might  gain  such  an  influence  over 
her  son  as  to  counterbalance  his  wise  views  of 
marriage,  felt  greatly  relieved  by  their  behavior 
towards  each  other.  That  fear  had  been  the  only 
thing  to  mar  the  pleasure  of  her  intercourse  with 
M.  Mole  and  his  family  ;  but  now  she  saw  clearly 
that  there  was  nothing  in  it.  She  had  dreaded  to 
see  their  intimacy  grow,  ami  perhaps  become  more 
sentimental,  while  they  were  so  much  together 
under  the  same  roof;  but  Henry's  conduct  had 
been  perfect !  He  just  observed  the  proper  degree 
of  politeness  which  he  owed,  he  just  showed 
with  He'lene  the  same  pleasure  that  lie  would 
show  in  any  other  pleasant  society.  Mrs.  Pearce 
congratulated  herself  that  nothing  regrettable  had 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  211 

happened.  It  is  true  that  she  imagined  at  times 
she  could  detect  a  little  flirtation  going  on  between 
Jean  and  Olive ;  but  it  was  of  no  consequence. 
They  could  not  keep  anything  back  from  her 
experience;  and  in  course  of  time,  even  if  their 
present  fancy  ripened  into  love,  Jean  Mold,  the 
successful  painter,  might  be  a  very  good  match 
for  her  niece,  for  she  could  not  expect  very  bril- 
liant offers  with  her  three  thousand  pounds,  poor 
thing  !  .  .  .  After  all  these  reflections  Mrs.  Pearce 
was  not  unwilling  to  take  into  consideration  the 
project  of  again  spending  the  vacations  at  Cham- 
pignol ;  but  when  M.  Mold  and  his  children  took 
leave  of  her,  Pearce  said  that  whatever  his  mother 
decided,  he  should  be  obliged  to  go  to  Italy  for 
his  studies,  and  could  not  join  her.  Perhaps  he 
might  be  able  to  spare  a  few  days  to  go  and  fetch 
her.  He  looked  at  Hdlene  as  he  said  this,  —  per- 
haps in  the  hope  of  detecting  some  expression  of 
regret;  but  the  handsome  face  remained  immov- 
able, and  he  felt  a  pang  of  selfish  disappointment 
His  pride  was  hurt  to  see  that  the  heart  he  had 
spurned  disdained  to  remain  in  bondage,  and  was 
free,  and  that  himself  no  longer  remained  in  the 
eyes  of  the  girl  the  hero  and  the  lord  he  Inn  I  been 
pleased  to  think  he  was  for  her,  but  that  she  had 
now  taken  his  true  measure  without  enthusiasm  or 
illusion. 

Olive's  tears  fell  like  summer  showers,  with  the 


212  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

sunshine  remaining  in  her  eyes  and  the  warmth  of 
affection  in  her  sweet,  saddened  smiles.  She  would 
have  liked  to  throw  herself  into  the  arms  of  her 
beloved  Jean ;  but  she  controlled  her  impulses 
most  courageously,  and  kept  her  secret  well.  As 
to  Jean,  he  felt  sorely  tempted  to  declare  that  his 
studies  necessitated  another  stav  in  England  ;  but 
at  last  he  schooled  himself  into  believing  that  his 
presence  in  Paris  would  forward  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  dearest  wish,  because  he  could  attend 
personally  to  his  interests,  and  this  reconciled  him 
to  the  separation. 

When  M.  Mold  reached  Taris  again,  he  went 
with  his  children  to  see  Madame  Ledoyen,  and  to 
their  sorrow  remarked  a  change  for  the  worse  in 
her  appearance.  She  looked  paler  still,  and  more 
feeble ;  her  hair,  so  black  a  short  time  since,  was 
densely  streaked  with  gray,  and  she  stooped  omi- 
nously: still,  she  did  not  complain.  She  could 
hardly  be  led  to  speak  of  her  son.  "  It  is  better 
to  talk  of  pleasant  subjects  to  one's  friends,"  she 
said,  "than  to  sadden  them  bv  going  over  one's 
own  troubles;"  so  she  inquired  alter  the  journey 
and  their  recent  experiences  of  English  life,  and 
toll!  Jean  that  she  had  been  very  happy  to  hear 
his  pictures  praised.  "Is  it  true  that  the  large 
one  has  been  bought  by  the  Government?"  Jean 
knew  nothing  about  it.  but  was  wildly  elated  by 
the  hope  that  it  might  be  true.     "Would  it  not  be 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  213 

a  capital  piece  of  news  to  write  to  Olive  ?  "  he  said 
to  Hdlene  as  soon  as  he  found  himself  alone  with 
her.  Well,  after  inquiring  of  his  picture-dealer, 
he  discovered  that  his  small  picture  was  sold  and 
that  the  purchaser  desired  another  of  the  same 
size.  He  had  given  the  commission  ;  but  as  to  the 
large  one,  nothing  was  known  vet.  The  intelli- 
gence  was  very  acceptahle,  even  so ;  and  Jean 
greatly  amused  his  father  by  mimicking  the  in- 
creased politeness  of  his  dealer,  who  used  formerly 
to  say  a  patronizing  word  to  him  from  his  desk 
and  left  him  to  the  com  mis,  but  who  to-day  had 
come  down  from  the  authoritative  desk  to  offer  his 
compliments  personally,  and  had  even  suggested 
the  exhibition  of  an  important  subject  in  his 
window.  "  Just  now  the  public  is  very  much 
taken  up  by  English  ways  and  fashions,"  he 
had  said ;  "  and  since  your  ideas  of  English  life 
are  quite  fresh,  you  might  turn  them  to  account. 
I  shall  be  most  happy  to  help  your  talent  to 
notoriety." 

After  three  days  spent  in  Paris,  M.  Mole  and 
He'lene  proceeded  towards  Champignol,  leaving 
Jean  behind.  Madame  Mold  thanked  God  with 
religious  fervor  when  she  saw  her  husband  and 
daughter  safe  again  at  home,  and  when  she  heard 
the  good  news  concerning  her  son.  A  journey  to 
England,  —  a  foreign  country  ;  the  crossing  of  the 
Channel,  —  the  sea;  ...  a  stay  of  over  a  month 


214  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

among  Protestants,  —  idolaters  !  —  these  were  for 
Madame  Mole,  who  never  left  her  little  country 
town,  a  series  of  most  perilous  experiences  to  body 
and  soul ;  however,  the  bodies  of  her  beloved  ones 
were  sound  and  safe,  and  their  souls  untainted. 
Had  she  known  what  had  passed  in  her  daughter's 
heart,  and  how  near  she  had  been  to  falling  in  love 
with  a  Protestant,  she  would  have  shuddered  with 
horror.  Perhaps  she  would  have  attributed  to  her 
prayers  and  retreat  the  happy  deliverance  from 
danger ;  had  it  been  otherwise,  the  most  painful 
complications  might  have  arisen,  for  Madame  Mole' 
Mould  never  have  consented  to  many  her  daughter 
to  a  schismatique.  Her  mind  being  at  rest  now 
about  the  most  important  points,  Madame  Mole' 
questioned  her  husband  and  daughter  about  minor 
tilings.    "  How  did  they  like  the  food  ? " 

"  Oh  !  the  roasts  are  capital,"  answered  M. 
Mole\  "  and  so  are  some  of  the  puddings;  and  the 
fish!  .  .  .  You  never  tasted  anything  like  their 
fish,  merely  boiled,  —  so  fresh,  so  firm,  delicious ! 
But  as  to  their  soups,  .  .  .  not  that  they  are  bad, 
only  I  had  dined  alter  three  spoonfuls.  The  poul- 
try is  unsavory,  tasteless;  they  baste  it  with  water, 
I  d(i  believe,  for  there  is  never  any  gravy  with  it, 
and  it 's  often  served  with  a  kind  of  posse  you  feed 
babies  with, —  bread  and  milk.  .  .  ." 

"You  don't  Bay  so  I"  exclaimed  Madame  Mold, 
utterly  bewildered. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  215 

"  It 's  perfectly  true,  and  they  dare  call  it  a  sauce 
too  !  But  you  are  not  obliged  to  take  any,  though, 
as  it 's  served  separately;  and  so  is  bacon.  Instead 
of  larding  their  fowls,  they  fry  or  boil  bacon 
separately." 

"  That  accounts  for  the  want  of  taste  of  the 
fowls,"  Madame  Mole-  remarked  judiciously. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  game  is  excellent.  I  did  not 
know  what  a  pheasant  could  be  before  I  tasted  it 
in  England.  You  are  aware  that  in  France  it's 
the  recognized  thing  to  keep  it  till  it's  so  high 
that  all  its  natural  delicacy  is  entirely  lost,  and  I 
always  abstain  from  tasting  it.  But  in  England 
my  olfactory  organ  told  me  that  I  might  safely 
venture ;  and  I  did  venture,  with  very  agreeable 
result,  as  often  as  I  had  a  chance." 

"  What  would  astonish  you  most,  Maman,  is  the 
curious  mixture  of  most  heterogeneous  elements,  as 
it  seems  to  us,  upon  the  same  plate.  Once  at  Mrs. 
Stodard's  I  saw  a  gentleman  who  had  on  his  plate 
a  slice  of  mutton  with  gravy,  then  currant-jelly, 
potatoes,  and  brussels- sprouts,  to  which  he  added 
lettuce  clipped  in  mayonnaise." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  he  ate  currant- 
jelly   and   mayonnaise   at   the   same   time!  .  .   .' 
said    Madame    Mole"    with    indescribable    stupe- 
faction. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  he  ate  them  together, 
but  he  did  certainly  have  them  at  the  same  time 


216  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

upon  his  plate  ;  now  that  I  think  of  it,  I  fancy  he 
took  alternately  some  mutton  and  jelly,  and  then 
some  salad,  or  other  kind  of  vegetable." 

"  Most  unaccountable  !  .  .  .  How  did  you  like 
the  sweets  ?  Are  they  very  different  from  ours  ? " 
continued  Madame  Mole'. 

"  Not  very  different,  except  the  boiled  puddings, 
which  I  did  not  much  like,  because  they  always 
seem  heavy  to  my  unaccustomed  stomach ;  as  to 
jellies,  they  frequently  retain  a  taste  of  isinglass, 
which  I  tli ink  detestable.  But,  Maman,  you 
should  see  the  perfection  of  the  service !  The 
brightness  of  so  many  silver  appliances,  together 
with  the  color  of  the  dishes  and  plates,  —  the  whole 
has  such  a  dainty,  cheerful  aspect,  much  more 
cheerful  than  our  cold,  all-white  dinner-table.  Did 
you  not  notice  it,  Papa  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  am  quite  of  your  opinion.  The  only 
drawback  that  I  could  find  with  the  waiting  was 
that  the  servants  often  have  too  much  on  their 
hands  at  once,  and  cannot  possibly  do  it  in  time  for 
the  comforts  of  the  guests.  It  has  often  been  my 
misfortune  to  wait  for  my  glass  of  beer  till  I  was 
nearly  choked;  and  I  remember  that  once  I  got 
my  sauce  for  fish  when  there  was  no  longer  any 
fish  on  my  plate.  We  were  rather  a  numerous 
party,  and  the  two  maids  could  not  attend  to 
everything  and  everybody  in  time.  Had  the  sauce 
been  passed  round  according  to  our  French  wny, 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  217 

I  should  have  got  it  to  eat  with  my  fish ;  and  had 
I  been  allowed  to  help  myself  to  drink,  I  should 
have  thought  it  a  greater  luxury  to  have  my  glass 
of  beer  when  I  needed  it,  than  to  have  it  poured 
out  to  me  after  waiting  for  it  through  half  a 
meal.  These  are,  however,  small  blemishes  in  a 
system  nearly  perfect." 

"  And  what  did  you  think  of  the  ladies'  toilettes  ? 
Is  it  true  that  Englishwomen  don't  know  how  to 
dress  ? " 

"  Now  who  could  expeoi  such  a  question  from 
Madame  Mold,  I  wonder  ? "  exclaimed  her  hus- 
band greatly  amused,  and  pointing  to  her  simple 
monastic  gray  dress. 

"  I  did  not  much  like  the  out-of-door  costumes," 
replied  Hdlene  to  her  mother's  inquiry.  "  English 
ladies  are  not  so  punctilious  about  harmony  in  the 
different  parts  of  a  toilette  as  we  are,  and  do  not 
shrink  from  sporting  something  eccentric,  which  at- 
tracts attention  inevitably ;  but  their  evening  cos- 
tumes are  exceedingly  varied  and  beautiful,  worn 
with  ease  and  grace,  and  selected  witli  great  refine- 
ment of  taste.  I  am  very  fond  of  the  English 
habit  of  always  dressing  for  dinner;  it  gives  an 
air  de  fete  to  the  simplest  meal." 

"  What !  do  they  dress  when  they  dine  by  them- 
selves ? " 

"  Yes,  to  a  certain  extent.  Olive  told  me  that 
her  aunt  does  not  change  her  dress  when  they  are 


218  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

alone  together,  but  she  invariably  adds  a  lace  fichu, 
ami  perhaps  a  ribbon  or  a  jewel,  —  something,  at 
any  rate,  which  she  would  not  wear  in  the  daytime. 
Mrs.  Stodard  attributes  this  habit  of  dressing  in 
the  evening  to  two  separate  causes  :  the  first  is  that 
English  ladies,  taking  a  great  deal  of  out-door 
exercise,  their  walking-dresses  would  not  look  neat 
and  tidy  at  dinner,  with  the  mud  or  dust  of  the 
streets ;  the  other  is  that  the  rooms,  heated  by  gas 
and  coal-fires,  get  so  extremely  hot  at  night  that  a 
light  evening  dress  is  much  pleasauter  to  wear 
than  a  heavy  fabric." 

"  I  suppose  the  rooms  at  night  must  have  a  very 
cheerful  aspect,  from  what  you  say  of  the  profuse 
light,  both  of  fires  and  gas,  together  with  the 
beautifully  dressed  ladies." 

"They  do;  I  don't  know  why,  but  this  look  of 
cheerfulness  and  comfort  made  me  feel  familiar 
with  whatever  strange  new  house  I  went  to  at 
night.  My  impression  in  the  daytime  was  quite 
different  The  almost  constantly  dull,  grayish 
atmosphere  of  the  outside  seems  like  an  immense 
monochrome  picture  in  each  of  the  windows,  ren- 
dered still  mi  nc  colorless  by  its  surrounding  of 
large  white  muslin  curtains;  the  wall-papers,  fre- 
quently gray  also,  in  delicate  tints,  not  to  interfere 
with  the  water-colors,  contribute  to  the  general 
chill,  —  so  different  from  the  effects  of  splendor  or 
warmth   often   produced    by   the   arrangements    of 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  219 

French  salons.  On  the  other  hand,  the  dining- 
rooms  are  finer  than  ours.  .  .  ." 

"  Now,  He'lene,  you  must  give  up  pampering 
your  Maman's  curiosity  for  a  while  ;  I  want 
to  hear  the  news  of  the  place,  if  there  are  any. 
First  of  all,  how  is  Madame  de  Civray  ? "  He 
noticed  at  once  some  hesitation  in  his  wife's 
countenance.  "  Is  she  so  ill,  then  ?  "  he  continued 
with  alarm. 

His  wife  looked  at  him  with  a  sad,  troubled  ex- 
pression, not  answering  him  yet. 

"I  see;  there  is  no  hope!"  he  continued,  after 
a  short  pause. 

"  No,  there  is  no  hope  left,"  said  Madame  Mole', 
coming  to  her  husband's  side  and  taking  hold  of 
his  hand.  "She  gave  up  her  soul  to  God  four  days 
ago,  and  was  buried  yesterday." 

She  silently  pressed  her  „  husband's  hand  and 
kept  it  in  hers ;  a  tear  rolled  upon  M.  Mold's  gray 
beard. 

"  I  am  so  grieved  there  was  not  one  of  us  at  her 
funeral,"  he  said  at  last.  "  We  have  lost  a  trusty 
friend." 

"  But  I  went,  dear,  and  the  Marquis  was  very 
grateful ;  he  expressed  his  thanks." 

"  I  am  deeply  obliged  to  you  for  your  consider- 
ate kindness,  ma  bonne  Marie"  said  M.  Mold,  who 
kissed  his  wife's  forehead.  "  How  does  the  Marquis 
bear  his  loss  ?  " 


220  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Courageously ;  lie  led  the  funeral  with  the 
lofty  manners  so  natural  to  him,  but  he  looked 
worn.  The  young  Countess  appeared  truly  grieved." 

"The  chateau  will  be  twice  as  gloomy  to  her," 
Hdlene  said.  "  Shall  we  soon  go  to  see  Made- 
moiselle Irene,  father?  .  .  .  The  blow  will  fall 
most  heavily  upon  her." 

No  other  news  was  talked  of  on  that  day ;  none 
would  have  been  of  any  importance  compared  to 
the  loss  of  so  old  and  so  considerate  a  friend  as 
la  Marquise  de  Civray. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  221 


XIV. 

A  fortnight  after  the  death  of  his  mother,  the 
Marquis,  in  deep  mourning,  called  privately  upon 
M.  Mold  to  deliver  into  his  hands  a  small  box 
containing  a  miniature  portrait  of  Madame  de  Civ- 
ray,  together  with  a  plain  gold  ring  engraved  with 
her  initials  and  worn  till  the  end  of  her  life.  She 
had  expressly  bequeathed  these  objects  to  M.  Mole' 
in  token  of  her  regard,  and  left  a  legacy  of  twenty 
thousand  francs  to  Hdleue,  with  a  very  valuable  set 
of  pearls,  begging  her  to  accept  the  money  instead 
of  the  trousseau  she  had  intended  to  offer. 

It  was  not  possible  to  decline  legacies  indicat- 
ing such  delicate  and  thoughtful  kindness.  Ma- 
dame  de  Civray  had  never  offered  any  reward  or 
compensation  to  her  adviser,  well  knowing  that  he 
did  not  expect  any,  and  that  what  he  gave  her  of 
his  time  and  thought  was  freely  and  generously 
given,  without  any  idea  of  profit ;  but  she  had  al- 
ways intended  to  make  Ilelene,  when  she  married, 
a  present  which  would  show  her  sense  of  gratitude 
for  her  father's  services.  M.  Mold  accepted  the 
souvenirs  both  for  himself  and  for  his  daughter. 


222  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  I  shall  have  a  heavy  weight  of  business  thrown 
upon  me  now,"  said  the  Marquis.  "  You  are  aware 
that  my  mother  directed,  in  a  great  measure,  the 
affairs  of  the  family  ;  and  although  a  separate  for- 
tune was  settled  upon  each  head  on  my  brother's 
marriage,  there  will  be  many  things  for  which  I 
shall  appeal  to  your  knowledge  and  experience, — 
as  my  mother  used  to  do,  —  if  you  allow  me." 

"  I  shall  always  be  most  happy  to  help  you  in 
any  case.  You  may  count  upon  my  devotion  to 
the  memory  of  Madame  de  Civray,  as  well  as  upon 
my  friendship  for  yourself." 

"  Thanks !  I  expected  as  much.  Will  you  ex- 
cuse me  to  Madame  Mole"  and  Mademoiselle 
HeTene  ?  I  feel  that  I  could  not  see  them  yet, 
especially  as  I  should  like  to  express  again  to 
Madame  Mold  my  sincere  gratitude  for  her  atten- 
dance at  the  funeral.  I  know  that  she  never  goes 
anywhere,  never  attends  a  ceremony,  that  she  never 
came  to  the  chateau  when  it  could  oiler  her  some 
pleasure,  but  that  she  overcame  all  her  reluctance 
in  order  to  be  among  us  in  our  day  of  sorrow." 

The  Marquis  went  away  soon  after  this,  and  M. 
Mole'  acquainted  his  wife  and  daughter  with  the 
objectof  his  visit.  They  were  both  greatly  affected 
by  the  tokens  of  amity  left  by  Madame  de  Civray. 

The  gloom  resulting  from  her  death  was  some- 
what relieved  by  the  good  tidings  which  came 
from  Jean  after  a  little  while.     It  was  perfectly 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  223 

true  that  the  Minister  of  Fine  Arts  had  bought  his 
large  picture,  and  he  had  received  a  commission 
for  the  decoration  of  a  new  church  which  would 
fully  occupy  him  for  at  least  a  year.  When  the 
time  came  for  the  official  distribution  of  medals, 
one  of  the  second  class  was  awarded  to  him  ;  and 
as  soon  as  he  felt  quite  certain  of  it,  he  flew  to 
Champignol  to  confide  his  love  story  to  his  mother 
and  to  beg  her  help  on  the  strength  of  his 
success. 

Madame  Mole  listened  to  him  with  tender  in- 
dulgence, and  so  did  her  husband,  who  undertook 
to  make  the  preliminary  negotiations  with  Mrs. 
Pearce  for  the  marriage  of  her  niece.  He  began 
by  pleading  his  son's  great  love,  and  said  that, 
though  young,  he  was  very  steady  and  serious  in 
his  work ;  lie  was  now  certain  of  official  patronage, 
which  would  do  a  great  deal  for  his  reputation. 
On  his  marriage  he  would  get  from  his  parents 
eighty  thousand  francs,  —  rather  less  than  his  sister, 
who  was  entitled  to  a  hundred,  because  a  pension 
had  been  given  to  him  for  some  years  past,  mak- 
ing up  the  difference.  Although  the  united  dow- 
ries of  Jean  and  Olive  would  amount  to  little 
over  six  thousand  pounds,  M.  and  Madame  Mole" 
thought  it  sufficient  to  begin  with.  "We  have 
only  two  children,"  concluded  M.  Mole,  "and 
after  us  what  we  possess  will  be  equally  divided 
between  them.     After  all  these  explanations,  fai 


224  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

llionneur,  chlre  Madame,  de  vous  demander  pour 
mon  fits  la  main  de  mademoiselle  votre  nihee." 

When  Mrs.  Pearce  communicated  the  letter  to 
her  son,  he  shook  his  head  and  said :  "  They  '11  be 
awfully  pinched !  .  .  .  But  that 's  their  own  look 
out,  of  course." 

"  So  you  think  I  must  give  my  consent  ?  .  .  ." 
asked  Mrs.  Pearce. 

"  What  could  you  do  else  ?  It 's  a  foolish  thing 
for  them  to  do  ;  but  they  might  only  be  kept  from 
it  for  a  time,  and  would  not  be  grateful  for  the 
interference." 

"I  am  sure  I  hope  dear  Olive  will  be  happy; 
M.  and  Madame  Mole"  seemed  very  fond  of  her.  As 
to  Jean,  you  know  him  better  than  I  do.  .  .  ." 
Mrs.  Pearce  said. 

"  Oh !  Jean  is  a  capital  fellow,  there  is  no  fear 
from  that  quarter ;  but  he  must  be  mad  to  throw 
away  all  his  chances  by  getting  married  at  his  age! 
.  .  .  However,  as  I  said  before,  that's  his  own 
concern." 

"  It  will  be  very  sad  for  me  to  have  Olive  taken 
away,  now  that  everything  had  been  satisfactorily 
arranged  for  her  Btay.  And  oh,  dear  me!  only 
think  of  the  wedding,  —  what  a  source  of  infinite 
trouble  and  expense! " 

"Well,  mother,"  answered  Pearce,  with  his  usual 
open-handedness,  "we  will  go  .shares;  you'll  have 
the  trouble,  and  I  shall  bear  the  expense." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  225 

But  it  was  not  to  be  so.  M.  Mold  and  his  wife 
had  thought  it  desirable  to  spare  Mrs.  Pearce  all 
inconvenience  and  unnecessary  outlay ;  they  pro- 
posed, in  consequence,  that  the  wedding  should 
take  place  at  Champignol.  This  had  become  pos- 
sible on  account  of  Olive's  recent  sojourn  in  the 
place,  —  the  law  requiring  it.  At  last,  after  a 
brisk  correspondence  of  a  fortnight's  duration, 
all  agreed  that  the  wedding  should  be  solemnized 
in  France  and  in  the  beginning  of  October. 

Mrs.  Pearce  was  to  come  again  to  La  Saulaie 
early  in  August.  There  had  been  some  talk  of 
letting  the  engagement  stand  over  for  a  year  or 
two;  but  M.  Mold  had  said  decisively:  " Puisque 
ces  en/ants  s'aiment,  il  faat  Us  laisser  maricr." 

Jean  and  his  wife  were  to  live  in  Paris  at  least 
the  greater  part  of  the  year,  and  the  vacations 
would  be  spent  at  Champignol.  So  Jean  went  to 
meet  Mrs.  Pearce  and  Olive  at  the  former  place  to 
choose  an  apartment  and  give  the  necessary  direc- 
tions for  the  furniture  and  upholstery. 

Although  Mrs.  Pearce  complained  of  the  trouble, 
she  really  liked  the  excitement  of  the  shopping, 
choosing,  and  ordering;  besides,  she  was  highly 
pleased  by  the  repeated  appeals  to  her  taste  and 
experience.  She  wrote  to  her  son,  who  was  in 
Italy,  that  she  had  no  idea  how  cheap  things 
were  in  Paris ;  Olive  and  Jean  were  to  furnish  so 
prettily,  and  with   so  little  money.     "  Why,  they 

15 


226  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

had  spent  only  five  hundred  pounds  ! "  True,  the 
apartment  seemed  extremely  small  to  English  eyes, 
though  it  was  advertised  as  un  grand  appartement, 
fraichcment  decore  et  orne  de  glaces.  Moreover  it 
was  on  the  third  floor  above  the  entresol,  and  she 
thought  that  very  high ;  but  Jean  had  assured  her 
that  it  was  the  right  thing  for  an  artist  in  Paris. 
"  They  all  live  au  cinquieme,  a  gauche,  you  know ; 
but  having  got  a  medal,  I  thought  I  might  indulge 
in  the  luxury  of  a  flight  of  stairs  less,"  he  had  said. 
Their  apartment  was  in  the  Place  Saint-Georges, 
with  a  roomy  studio  at  the  top  of  the  house  for 
Jean.  "We  all  hope  that  you  will  manage  so  as 
to  be  present  at  the  wedding.  Indeed,  I  consider 
your  presence  as  indispensable,  you  and  I  being 
dear  Olive's  only  relations,"  concluded  Mrs.  Pearce. 

Everything  once  satisfactorily  arranged  in  Paris, 
Jean,  with  Olive  and  her  aunt,  proceeded  to  Cham- 
pignol,  where  their  reception  was  all  that  their 
hearts  could  desire.  Olive  especially  was  petted 
and  caressed,  and  treated  as  if  she  were  already 
one  of  the  family.  "You  must  have  been  very 
much  astonished  when  you  heard  the  news,  Toi- 
nette,  were  you  not  ? "  asked  Olive,  with  a  pretty 
blush,  when  she  received  the  good-hearted  servant's 
wishes  and  compliments. 

"Astonished?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  was  sure  it 
would  come  to  this  soon.  How  was  it  possible  for 
any  young  lady  to  know  M.  Jean  without  loving 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  227 

him  ?  And  how  could  he  help  falling  in  love  with 
the  prettiest  young  lady  we  ever  saw  at  Cham- 
pignol, — except  Mademoiselle  Hdlene  ?  .  .  .  No,  I 
was  not  a  bit  astonished  ;  and,  like  the  rest  of  the 
family,  I  am  very  glad  of  it,  Miss  Olive,  and  I  hope 
you  '11  be  very  happy  together." 

"  Thank  you,  Toinette  ;  I  hope  so  too." 

The  trousseau  was  made  in  a  convent  at  Cham- 
piguol,  and  the  wedding-dress  in  Paris;  everything 
was  ready  two  days  before  the  ceremony,  when 
Pearce  arrived.  He  had  brought  a  very  fine  set  of 
cameos  for  his  cousin,  and  showed  himself  quite 
affectionate  and  amiable.  He  said  that  having 
been  superseded  in  his  guardianship  allowed  him 
to  act  in  his  character  of  cousin,  and  that  lie 
would  now  pass  the  rod  and  the  scolding  to 
Jean. 

"  You  need  not  fear  anything  from  me,"  the 
latter  said  to  Olive.  "French  law  does  not  author- 
ize us  to  chastise  our  wives,  even  with  the  small- 
est of  canes;  it  seems  to  have  been  inspired  by 
the  Persians,  who  say :  Ne  frappez  jamais  une 
famine,  mime  avcc  tine  flmr.  I  hope  you  duly 
appreciate  your  luck  in  becoming  French,  for  you 
also  escape  the  clanger  of  being  sold  in  Smithfield 
Market  with  a  rope  round  your  neck,  you  know." 

"  Very  true  ;  how  fortunate  I  am  !  .  .  .  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  I  fear  I  could  not  be  divorced," 
Olive  answered  archly. 


228  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Well,  then,  you  see,  after  all  it 's  as  in  every- 
thing else,  il  1/  a  du  pour  et  du  contre"  Jean  said 
philosophically. 

There  was  no  possibility  of  mistaking  the  full 
and  perfect  happiness  of  these  two  young  people, 
it  was  so  frank  and  open.  They  did  not  hide  it 
under  any  attempt  at  decorum ;  it  was  continually 
proclaimed  by  their  joyous  countenauce,  merry 
laughter,  and  animated  talk.  Toinette  often 
stopped  in  the  midst  of  her  work  to  look  at  them 
or  listen  to  them  ;  then  she  would  turn  to  Madame 
Mold  and  whisper:  "They  have  no  other  business 
now  than  to  sin<>'  Jc  mo  ate  aux  cieux,  as  the  larks 
say,  and  to  gladden  every  heart  with  their  song." 

The  wedding  was  very  grand  indeed.  M.  Mole* 
was  so  well  known  and  so  much  loved  that  all 
the  society  of  Champignol  flocked  to  church  to  wit- 
ness the  ceremony.  The  attendance  of  humble  per- 
sons who  owed  him  gratitude  was  also  numerous. 
All  eyes  turned  in  the  same  direction  when  the 
Marquis  de  Civray  with  his  sisters,  and  the  Comte 
Ungues  with  his  young  bride,  all  in  deep  mourn- 
ing, took  their  seats  at  some  distance  from  the  rest 
of  the  assembly.  Such  an  honor  had  never  been 
paid  to  any  person  of  the  Champignol  aristocracy. 
At  ran;  intervals  one  member  of  the  proud  family 
had  been  seen  at  a  funeral  or  at  a  wedding;  but 
the  whole  family,  with  the  ladies,  in  spite  of  their 
mourning  too  !  .  .  . 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  229 

Soon  came  the  bride,  so  perfectly  lovely,  with 
her  golden  hair  and  pure  blue  eyes  gleaming 
through  a  cloud  of  tulle.  Every  one  admired  her 
as  she  advanced  timidly  towards  the  altar,,  led  by 
Pearce,  whose  tall  and  handsome  figure  also  at- 
tracted a  good  deal  of  attention.  Helene  was 
declared  the  most  beautiful  girl  of  the  town  ;  and 
after  this  day  many  were  the  offers  of  marriage 
which  resulted  from  her  appearance  in  public  on 
that  memorable  occasion.  It  was  also  noticed 
that  Madame  Mole*  was  still  dressed  in  gray ;  the 
only  concession  she  had  made  was  to  exchange  wool 
for  silk.  As  to  Madame  Toinette,  she  did  not  pass 
unnoticed ;  and  it  was  reported  that  her  coiffe  was 
fastened  by  pins,  —  the  like  of  which  had1*  never 
been  seen  in  ChampignoL  —  as  big  as  pigeon's  eggs, 
all  silver,  and  full  of  holes  like  embroidery!  .  .  . 
They  were  the  Japanese  pins  given  to  her  by 
Maxime. 

The  religious  ceremony  being  over,  the  bride 
and  bridegroom  were  marshalled  in  state  to  the 
sacristie  by  the  gorgeous  Suisse  in  scarlet  and  gold. 
There  was  a  little  hesitation  among  the  assembly 
as  to  what  they  had  better  do,  —  either  go  to  have 
a  better  view  of  the  wedding-party  in  the  sacristie, 
or  else  follow  the  Marquis  for  a  sight  of  the  ladies 
de  Civray  and  of  their  equipage  with  the  powdered 
laquais.  .  .  .  This  hesitation  was  cut  short  when 
the  Marquis  crossed  the  church  in  the  rear  of  the 


230  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

cortege  and  made  his  way  towards  the  newly  mar- 
ried couple.  Every  one  stopped,  and  a  line  was 
formed  to  leave  a  clear  passage  for  the  young 
countess  and  her  sisters-in-law. 

Jean  and  his  wife  advanced  a  few  steps,  and 
the  Marquis,  after  bowing  to  them  in  his  courtly 
manner,  shook  hands  with  the  bridegroom  and 
complimented  him  in  his  own  name  and  in  the 
name  of  his  relations ;  then  he  addressed  the  bride 
and  said :  "  I  congratulate  you,  Madame,  upon 
your  alliance  with  the  son  of  the  most  respected 
man  in  Champignol."  Olive  could  only  bow  and 
blush,  while  she  murmured  some  inaudible  thanks, 
before  she  signed  the  register;  after  which  the 
Marquis  received  her  pen  and  passed  it  to  the 
Countess,  who,  graciously  smiling  upon  Olive, 
wrote  her  name  under  hers.  The  Count,  the  Mar- 
quis, and  his  sisters  signed  in  succession,  while 
the  cur4,  taken  by  surprise,  hurried  to  present  his 
duty  to  the  Countess.  The  Suisse,  with  a  senti- 
ment of  heightened  importance,  held  the  door 
open  and  escorted  the  ladies  to  their  carriage  with 
stately  strides  and  sounding  hallebarde.  It  was  a 
strange  sight,  that  black  defile  in  the  midst  of 
the  gayly  dressed  wedding-party;  but  the  lordly 
manners  and  courtesy  of  the  de  Civray  had  never 
shone  to  greater  advantage  in  the  eyes  of  the 
public,  and  every  one  present  at  the  marriage  felt 
inwardly  nattered  by  reflection. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  231 

The  emotions  of  the  ceremony  subsided  gradually, 
and  the  wedding-breakfast  was  a  very  lively  affair, 
lasting  so  long,  according  to  provincial  custom,  that 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  had  to  leave  the  table 
before  the  end  to  don  their  travelling  costumes. 
They  were  seen  no  more  by  the  guests,  who  only 
became  aware  of  their  departure  by  the  altered 
expression  of  the  parents'  faces. 

Olive  and  Jean  had  started  on  their  new 
life,  accompanied  by  the  blessings  of  all  those 
they  loved.  They  went  to  spend  their  honey- 
moon in  Italy,  where  they  would  meet  Pearce  and 
his  mother  now  and  then  in  their  erratic  course. 


232  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 


XV. 

To  these  festivities  a  heavy  calm  succeeded;  and 
when  Mrs.  Pearce  and  her  son  were  gone,  Hdlene 
suffered  from  a  sense  of  loneliness  quite  new  to 
her.  In  vain  did  she  go  back  to  her  accustomed 
routine,  in  vain  did  she  read  and  play  music ; 
she  could  not  revive  the  old  interest,  the  charm 
was  gone.  She  was  irritated  against  herself  and 
against  her  coward  fears  of  the  future.  .  .  .  Would 
all  her  life  be  spent  so,  she  wondered,  in  sterile 
struggles  against  vain  aspirations  ?  .  .  .  What  did 
she  want  ?  Was  she  not  cheerful  and  contented 
formerly  ?  Yes ;  but  then,  she  thought,  at  that 
time  I  was  first  in  my  brother's  heart  and  in  that 
of  Maxime ;  and  when  they  were  away  I  looked 
forward  to  their  coming  soon.  Now  they  have 
other  interests,  and  Jean  at  least  lias  another,  a 
stronger  love.  And  Olive,  who  had  been  a  dear 
and  charming  companion,  was  also  gone.  She 
would  come  back,  no  doubt,  but  she  would  not  be 
the  same  Olive ;  no  longer  a  girl  like  herself,  she 
would  be  a  wife  before  everything  else, — Madame 
Jean  Mole*.     And  Madame  Ledoyen  was  estranged 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  233 

too,  for  she  bad  excused  herself  on  the  plea  of 
illness  for  not  coming  to  the  wedding.  It  was 
clear  to  Helene  that  there  had  been  no  forgive- 
ness ;  and  she  began  to  think  it  very  unjust  to 
be  deprived  of  a  trusted  affection  because  she  had 
wanted  to  know  her  own  mind.  Now  at  any  rate 
she  was  sure  of  one  thing,  —  she  did  not  love 
Pearce.  That  stay  in  England,  which  was  to  show 
him  in  all  the  glory  of  reputation  and  success  to 
an  admiring  country  girl,  had,  on  the  contrary, 
stripped  him  of  the  many  charms  assumed  during 
his  transitory  love-fancy,  and  magnified  by  an 
enthusiastic  maiden's  imagination.  She  had  seen 
him  again  with  real  pleasure,  but  without  emotion. 
She  could  still  appreciate  and  value  his  rare  superi- 
ority and  sterling  talents ;  but  she  also  missed  the 
generous-heartedness,  the  infinite  powers  of  ten- 
derness and  devotion  which  she  had  attributed  to 
him  once,  and  which  were  necessary  to  win  and 
retain  her  love.  But  of  course  all  this  could  not  be 
explained  to  Madame  Ledoyen,  and  poor  Helene 
suffered  doubly,  since  she  did  not  get  any  news 
of  Maxime. 

Three  months  passed  in  this  manner,  with  an 
occasional  ray  of  sunshine  brought  to  the  deserted 
house  by  a  letter  from  the  deserters.  Although  as 
happy  as  could  be  wished,  since  they  had  settled  to 
their  work  and  taken  their  married  life  ait  sen, 
they  longed   to  pay  a  visit  to  their   parents   at 


234  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

Chanipignol,  and  it  was  decided  that  they  should 
come  for  Christmas  and  take  away  H£lene  after 
the  New  Year. 

This  was  told  to  M.  de  Civray  on  one  of  his 
visits,  during  which  he  had  inquired  about  Jean's 
address  to  get  his  advice  for  the  decoration  of  a 
private  salon  in  his  own  suite  of  rooms.  Since 
his  brother's  marriage  the  great  drawing-room  no 
longer  afforded  him  any  privacy,  as  the  Countess 
constantly  entertained  friends  or  members  of  her 
family ;  she  could  not  bear  the  dreary,  dismal  life 
of  the  chateau  without  a  great  deal  of  company, 
and  even  then  she  was  out  as  much  as  possible,  — 
diiving,  riding,  boating, or  fishing.  Pretty,  shallow, 
and  with  strong  aversion  to  any  serious  pursuit, 
fond  of  adulation  and  amusement,  she  had  resigned 
herself  to  marry  a  deaf  and  dumb  Count  in  the 
hope  of  being  mistress  at  Champignol  and  playing 
the  role  of  marquise;  with  the  great  fortune  of  the 
house  she  could  realize  la  vie  de  chateau  en  grand, 
and,  always  surrounded  by  a  court,  would  not  have 
time  to  feel  much  the  want  of  intercourse  with  her 
husband.  And  she  had  decided  that  she  would 
not  pass  more  than  three  or  four  months  of  the 
year  at  Champignol ;  she  would  have  the  antique 
Hotel  de  Civray,  in  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain, 
completely  altered  and  splendidly  furnished,  so  that 
her  fetes  and  receptions  might  be  recounted  in  the 
"  Figaro."     She  would  stay  in  Paris  with  her  hus- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  235 

band  during  the  season,  and  the  rest  of  the  year 
would  be  devoted  to  the  sea-side  and  travelling. 

These  plans  appeared  delightful  at  first  sight, 
and  she  often  thought  with  a  little  impatience 
that  their  fulfilment  had  to  be  postponed  for  some 
months  yet,  on  account  of  the  death  of  the  late 
Marquise  ;  so  long  as  they  were  in  deep  mourning, 
comparative  seclusion  was  dc  rigueur.  In  the 
mean  time  she  surrounded  herself  with  as  many 
intimate  friends  as  she  could  gather,  but  could 
not  help  occasionally  a  creeping  sensation,  akin  to 
remorse,  when  she  caught  the  expression  of  mourn- 
ful lonesomeness  on  her  husband's  face.  She  some- 
times fancied  that  this  gloom  had  deepened  since 
his  marriage ;  but  it  could  not  be.  She  did  every- 
thing in  her  power  to  cheer  him,  and  it  must  be 
pleasanter  to  have  so  many  guests,  to  see  so  many 
new  faces  and  so  much  more  liveliness  about  him 
than  formerly. 

She  had  another  vague  and  uncomfortable  ap- 
prehension,—  about  the  Marquis.  He  was  very 
courteous  to  her,  but,  in  spite  of  his  apparent 
deference,  it  had  seemed  to  her  on  two  or  three 
occasions  as  if  he  meant  to  remain  the  master; 
and  that  was  a  cause  of  serious  annoyance  to  the 
young  Countess.  She  had  expressed  a  wish  that 
Irene  and  her  sisters  should  spend  the  evenings 
in  the  drawing-room, — "  Indeed,  she  expected  it !" 
To  which  the  Marquis  answered,  that  "  his  sisters 


236  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

had  been  allowed  perfect  freedom  in  this  respect 
by  their  mother,  and  he  hoped  it  might  be  con- 
tinued.'' He  had  expressed  this  "  hope  "  in  such  a 
tone  that  insisting  was  out  of  the  question. 

Quite  lately  she  had  thrown  out  a  hint  about 
being  obliged  to  go  to  Paris  soon  to  see  that  things 
were  made  comfortable  at  the  Hotel  de  Civray 
for  the  season  that  she  thought  of  spending  there, 
"quietly,"  she  said,  not  to  awaken  the  suscepti- 
bility of  her  brother-in-law.  "You  can  spare 
yourself  the  trouble,"  he  answered ;  "  everything 
is  always  perfectly  comfortable  at  the  hotel,  and 
in  readiness  to  receive  my  guests.  I  trust  the 
servants  will  see  that  you  lack  no  comfort  when 
you  feel  disposed  to  make  use  of  it." 

This  was  a  bitter  disappointment !  .  .  .  A  guest, 
indeed  !  To  be  treated  as  a  guest  when  she 
had  considered  herself  perfect  mistress,  and  had 
planned  every  detail  for  the  renovation  of  the 
place  !  .  .  .  But  she  kept  her  anger  within  herself, 
thinking  that  by  wise  policy  she  might  by  degrees 
make  the  Marquis  yield  to  her  wishes.  He  on 
his  part  had  resolved  to  secure  his  privacy  in  the 
chateau  by  the  addition  of  a  salon  to  his  apart- 
ment, and  had  talked  the  plan  over  with  M. 
Mole*  and  told  him  that  he  wished  Jean  to  un- 
dertake the  decoration.  M.  Mole*  had  answered 
that  his  son  would  come  at  Christmas,  when  the 
project  might  be  discussed.     In  the  course  of  the 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCEITY.  237 

conversation  lie  had  been  led  to  say  that  Jean  and 
his  wife  intended  to  take  away  He'lene  with  them; 
but  he  had  not  said  for  how  long,  and  M.  de  Civray 
dared  not  ask.  He  grew  very  anxious  about  it, 
and  called  several  times,  in  the  hope  of  finding  her 
alone,  but  without  success.  One  afternoon,  at  last, 
Toinette  answered  to  his  query  that  "  Monsieur 
was  out,  but  Mademoiselle  was  in  the  salon ; "  and 
as  he  said  he  would  pay  his  respects,  he  was 
shown  in. 

He'lene  knew  his  step,  and  put  aside  her  work 
to  receive  him.  "  How  are  you,  Monsieur  le 
Marquis  ? "  she  began,  more  ceremoniously  than 
when  her  father  or  mother  was  present.  "  How  is 
Mademoiselle  Irene  ? " 

"  Pretty  well  in  health,  thank  you ;  far  from 
well  in  mind." 

He'lene  had  raised  her  eyes  in  quick  alarm.  "  I 
hope  nothing  has  happened,"  she  added  anxiously. 

"I  don't  want  to  frighten  you,  therefore  I 
answer  that  nothing  has  happened,  —  at  least,  no 
accident,  no  death,  no  illness ;  and  yet  something 
has  happened  which  makes  us  all  so  miserably 
wretched  that  for  my  part  I  cannot  bear  it  alone 
any  longer,  and  I  have  come  to  you  for  sympathy." 

"  Can  I  do  anything,  then  ?  ...  Of  course 
you  have  a  right  to  our  sympathy ;  you  may 
count  upon  it.  I  so  regret  that  my  father  should 
be  out ! " 


238  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"But  I  don't  regret  it;  it  is  your  own  sym- 
pathy that  I  want." 

"  You  have  it ;  .  .  .  but  what  can  it  be  ? " 

"  I  beg  you  to  have  patience  with  my  tale ;  it  is 
rather  a  long  one.  .  .  ." 

"  My  time  is  perfectly  free,  and  I  long  to  hear 
what  makes  your  sister  unhappy." 

"  What  makes  us  all  unhappy  is  my  brother's 
marriage  and  the  new  ways  thoughtlessly  intro- 
duced by  the  Countess  into  our  house.  You  know, 
Mademoiselle,  with  what  tact  and  devotion  my 
mother  had  organized  life  at  the  chateau,  to  give 
as  much  pleasure  as  possible  to  her  children 
and  to  spare  them  the  pains  resulting  from  their 
infirmity." 

"  I  knew  and  admired  it,"  said  Helene  respect- 
fully. 

"  She  had  devoted  herself  entirely  to  her  task," 
the  Marquis  pursued,  "  and  could  understand  her 
children  thoroughly ;  she  had  developed  in  them 
all  the  love  of  study,  of  knowledge  and  art,  and 
had  contrived  to  establish  in  her  silent  realm  a 
flow  of  constant  interest  and  intercourse.  I  helped 
her  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  and  renounced  for 
my  brother's  and  sisters'  sakes  the  kind  of  exist- 
ence befitting  the  heir  of  our  house.  So  long  as 
we  were  alone,  or  witli  friends  like  yourself  and 
your  father,  they  did  not  feel  shut  out  of  human 
intercourse  ;  they  were  not  ashamed  of  their  mis- 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  239 

fortune ;  they  could  still  enjoy  life,  because  their 
inferiority  to  others  was  not  constantly  recalled  to 
their  minds  by  comparison.  But  now,  with  the 
chateau  full  of  indifferent  guests,  they  are  either 
banished  to  solitude  or  condemned  to  ever-recur- 
ring torture  ;  be  it  at  their  own  table,  in  the  salons, 
even  out  in  the  gardens,  they  cannot  escape  from 
the  curious  observation  of  the  Countess's  friends ! " 

"It  is  very,  very  painful !  "  said  Helene,  deeply 
moved.  "  I  feel  for  them,  and  .  .  .  for  you,  M.  le 
Marquis.     Is  there  no  possible  remedy  ? " 

"  Yes,  there  is  one,  and  I  mean  to  apply  it,  — 
with  your  help,"  he  added  quite  softly. 

"  My  help !  .  .  ."  exclaimed  Helene,  lost  in 
surprise. 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  give  it  me.  The  realization 
of  this  plan  —  of  this  dream  —  would  make  me  per- 
fectly happy  ;  it  would  give  me  what  I  want  .  .  . 
ah  !  so  much,  —  a  true  heart  in  return  for  my  affec- 
tion, and  the  companionship  of  a  generous  mind. 
The  thoughtfulness  of  my  mother  for  her  child- 
ren's welfare  would  revive,  and  the  same  spirit 
would  reign  at  the  chateau."  The  voice  of  Hec- 
tor de  Civray  was  now  warm  and  tremulous ;  He- 
lene no  longer  dared  to  look  at  him.  He  pursued: 
"  The  Countess  has  usurped  my  wife's  place,  my 
wife's  rights  of  dominion,  and  I  do  not  care  to 
claim  these  rights  for  myself;  as  soon,  however, 
as  there  is  a  Marquise  de  Civray  de  Champignol, 


240  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

the  Countess  will  sink  into  nothingness."  Here 
the  Marquis  got  up,  and  coming  in  front  of  Hdlene, 
bowed  with  respectful  dignity  as  he  said :  "  Will 
you  do  me  the  honor  to  become  Marquise  de  Civ- 
ray  ?  .  .  ."  This  offer  had  been  made  in  a  lofty 
tone,  clearly  indicating  that  the  nobleman  Mas 
fully  aware  of  the  value  attached  to  the  title  he 
might  confer;  but  his  manner  and  voice  suddenly 
altered  when  he  added  passionately :  "  Will  you 
do  me  the  favor  to  become  my  wife  ?  .  .  .  You 
know  —  you  must  know  —  that  I  have  loved  you 
for  many  years ;  but  I  hesitated  to  ask  you  to  re- 
nounce the  cheerful  life  which  might  be  in  store  for 
you  for  the  dreariness  of  the  chateau  ;  still,  I  knew 
that  you  did  not  shrink  from  it,  that  you  loved 
Irene,  and  came  of  your  own  free  will  among  us. 
I  also  hesitated  because  —  I  could  not  offer  you 
the  first  place  then.  I  would  not  have  placed 
any  one  above  my  mother  ;  but  now,  say  that  you 
will  consent  to  share  my  life,  with  its  pains  and 
joys,  and  you  will  make  me  happier  than  I  have 
ever  been."  He  stood  eagerly  watching  Hdlene's 
countenance  :  she  did  not  pretend  to  be  surprised 
or  bewildered,  she  looked  exceedingly  sad  and 
compassionate. 

"  I  believe  every  word  you  have  said,"  she 
answered,  her  voice  trembling  with  emotion,  "  and 
I  am  not  insensible  to  the  honor  you  are  doing  me. 
...  I  am  very  sorry  to  be  unable  to  accept  it." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  241 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  the  duties  incumbent  on  the 
position  ?  .  .  .  I  consider  you  perfectly  equal  to 
them.  Or  have  you  some  objection  that  I  did  not 
foresee  ?  .  .  .  You  only  shake  your  head.  .  .  .  Ah, 
unhappy  fool  that  I  am  ! "  he  exclaimed  violently, 
"  I  kuow  well  enough  the  objection  that  you  will 
not  state.  ...  Of  course  you  cannot  love  me!" 

"  Do  not  be  unjust,  M.  de  Civray.  We  all  have 
a  great  affection  for  you,  and  the  proof  that  you 
count  upon  it,  is  in  the  confidence  that  you  have  just 
placed  in  me,"  answered  Helene  reproachfully. 

"  Affection  is  not  love,  Mademoiselle.  How  can 
I  be  contented  with  a  cold  assurance  of  affection 
when  I  ask  for  your  love  ?  .  .  .  But  the  fault 
is  mine.  I  don't  know  what  power  impelled  me 
to  offer  myself  to  the  humiliation  of  a  refusal  I 
was  certain  of  meeting  !  ...  It  was  despair,  I  be- 
lieve. To  return  hopeless  to  my  solitary  life,  it 
was  necessary  that  I  should  hear  from  your  own 
lips  that  you  cannot  love  me.  .  .  .  Still,  had  it  been 
otherwise,  I  think  I  might  have  made  your  exist- 
ence happy  and  enviable  ;  for  I  should  have  wor- 
shipped you,  —  had  I  been  allowed,  —  and  every 
one  of  your  wishes  would  have  been  law  to  me." 

"  Have  you  reflected,  M.  le  Marquis,  about  the 
blame  that  such  a  marriage  would  have  brought 
upon  you  ?  .  .  .  Even  your  nearest  relations  might 
have  resented  it.  It  may  be  better  as  it  is  for 
both  of  us." 

16 


242  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"Nobody  has  any  right  over  my  actions;  my 
mother's  authority  was  the  only  one  I  submitted 
to,  and  it  no  longer  exists.  Whatever  I  choose  to 
do,  I  am  responsible  only  to  myself,  and  my  sense 
of  honor  and  dignity  is  not  beneath  my  station.  I 
am  fully  convinced  that  I  should  not  wrong  my 
family  by  an  alliance  with  so  noble  a  woman  as  you, 
and  I  would  make  every  one  understand  it." 

"  I  can  only  thank  you  for  your  good  opinion  of 
me.  .  .  .  Pray  do  not  be  hurt,  do  not  be  grieved, 
because  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  accept  your  offer. 
I  feel  deeply  touched  ..."  She  could  not  pro- 
ceed ;  she  had  lost  all  control  over  her  voice ;  the 
tears  stood  in  her  eyes  as  she  saw  the  terrible  dis- 
couragement of  the  Marquis's  countenance. 

"  You  feel  for  me,  you  pity  me !  Yes,  I  see  that," 
he  resumed  in  a  low  tone  ;  "  you  think  he  is  more 
to  be  pitied  than  blamed  for  not  realizing  his  in- 
feriority. Poor  man !  How  can  he  hope  to  be 
loved,  with  his  clouded  and  diminished  faculties, 
shattered  health,  and  threatening  future  ?  .  .  ." 

"  Ah,  Monsieur ! "  cried  Hdlene  in  sore  distress 
and  rising  from  her  chair,  "  this  is  too  cruel !  I 
affirm  that  you  are  the  only  one  to  think  so  ungen- 
erously of  yourself,  and  that  you  are  alone  in  the 
belief  that  you  have  not  entirely  recovered  what 
you  had  lost  momentarily  in  your  illness.  Ask 
my  father,  if  you  don't  believe  me." 

"  I  wish  I  could  believe  you,  I  wish  it  ardently ! 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  243 

But  if  it  is  true,  then  why  reject  me  ?  .  .  .  There 
is  only  one  other  possible  motive;  .  .  .  but  I  have 
no  right  to  question  you  .  .  .  No,  do  not  try  to  raise 
me  iu  my  own  eyes ;  I  am  well  aware  of  my  defi- 
ciencies. I  beg  your  pardon  for  my  temerity ;  try 
to  forget  it ! "  There  was  an  accent  so  terribly 
wild  and  concentrated  at  the  same  time  in  M.  de 
Civray's  voice  that  a  great  fear  of  something  fatal 
made  HeTene  lay  her  hand  on  the  arm  of  the  Mar- 
quis, to  prevent  him  from  going  away,  and  with 
flushed  face  and  sudden  resolution  she  said :  "  You 
force  me  to  confess  that  the  reason  of  my  refusal  is 
my  love  for  another.     Are  you  satisfied  now  ?  " 

M.  de  Civray  remained  speechless,  this  frank 
avowal  was  so  unsuspected  !  He  felt  that  nothing 
less  than  real  compassion  for  his  grief  could  have 
made  so  proud  a  girl  betray  her  secret.  He  looked 
at  her  handsome  face  suffused  with  a  burning 
blush,  and  knew  what  the  confession  must  have 
cost  her.  He  sighed,  and  at  last  said :  "  Made- 
moiselle, I  duly  appreciate  your  generous  confi- 
dence, though  it  destroys  all  possibility  of  hope 
for  me.  .  .  .  There  is  only  one  other  thing  I  want 
to  say  :  if  ever  you  should  be  destined  to  know 
what  unrequited  love  is,  or  if  events  should  frus- 
trate the  fulfilment  of  your  present  wishes,  remem- 
ber that  I  would  gratefully  accept  whatever  was 
left  of  affection  in  your  heart,  and  that  I  should 
still  consider  myself  happy  through  this  gift.     Do 


244  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

not  think,  however,  that  I  am  so  basely  selfish  as 
to  desire  that  it  were  so.  No ;  in  taking  leave, 
I  beg  you  to  accept  my  most  sincere  wishes  for 
your  happiness,  and  to  remember  that  if  you  ever 
require  the  help  of  a  friend,  mine  will  be  ready." 

He  was  gone ;  as  soon  as  his  footsteps  had  died 
away,  Hdlene  rushed  to  her  room,  not  to  be  sur- 
prised in  tears  when  her  father  or  mother  came 
back.  How  painful  it  had  been  to  wound  such  a 
chivalrous  heart  as  M.  de  Civray's  !  .  .  .  She  knew 
what  he  must  have  suspected  when  he  spoke  of 
unrequited  love  :  he  had  thought  of  Pearce ;  yet 
if  he  could  see  the  truth,  he  would  find  himself 
far  above  this  supposed  rival  in  her  affection.  He 
was  mistaken,  as  she  had  been  herself  for  some 
time.  She  had  told  him  the  truth  almost  un- 
awares, —  how  did  it  escape  out  of  her  heart  ?  how 
did  the  almost  unconscious  utterance  of  it  by  her 
own  lips  convey  the  true  meaning  to  her  brain  ? 
.  .  .  Why  ?  This  knowledge  came  too  late,  now  ! 
"When  Happiness  presented  herself  in  simple  gar- 
ments, in  homely  guise,  she  had  said:  "This  can- 
not be  the  goddess  that  all  mortals  seek,  it  is  a 
beggar  usurping  her  name  ! "  And  the  goddess 
was  expelled,  in  spite  of  the  warning  awe  felt  by 
human  hearts  in  the  presence  of  deities.  Since 
then,  false  goddesses  had  tried  to  allure  her  by  the 
splendor  of  their  appearance  and  the  seduction 
of  their  promises ;  but  they  lacked  the  signs   of 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  245 

heavenly  origin,  and  had  been  allowed  to  go  their 
way.  Would  she  recall  the  divine  visitor  she  had 
refused  to  entertain  ?  .  .  .  ]STo  !  she  was  too  proud ; 
she  had  made  a  grievous  mistake,  and  she  must 
bear  the  consequences. 

Helene  found  some  relief  from  her  sad  thoughts 
in  the  necessary  preparations  for  her  brother's 
visit.  The  bachelor's  room  was  no  longer  con- 
sidered sufficient,  and  a  pretty  little  apartment 
had  been  arranged  for  the  youug  couple,  with  an 
attic  for  Margot,  who  was  to  accompany  them. 
"  Tell  Toinette,"  Olive  wrote,  "  that  we  shall  bring 
Margot  with  us  (not  that  I  need  a  lady's  maid),  but 
to  let  her  have  the  benefit  of  Toinette's  teaching. 
She  promises  to  be  very  obedient,  and  Jean  (who  is 
somewhat  of  a  gourmet,  you  know)  would  like  her 
to  learn,  for  his  own  benefit,  some  of  the  recipes 
for  his  favorite  dishes." 

Madame  Mole"  read  this  passage  of  the  letter  to 
Toinette,  and  asked  her  if  she  had  any  objection 
to  the  proposed  plan.  "Margot  will  be  a  great 
help,  you  know ;  and  this  is  a  point  to  be  consid- 
ered, as  there  will  be  more  work,"  she  remarked. 

"  As  to  the  work,  Madame,  I  think  I  could  get 
through  it  with  the  boy,  who  is  beginning  to  wait 
neatly  and  can  run  the  errands,  though  he  often 
forgets  half  of  them;  and  Mathieu,  with  nothing 
to  do  now  in  the  garden,  is  willing  enough  to  do 
the    rough    work,  and    it  spares  time,  despite  his 


246  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

clumsiness.  (Test  drole,  tout  de  mime,  but  some 
people  can't  be  handy,  and  Mathieu  is  one  of  those. 
If  he  brings  water,  he  spills  it  all  the  way ;  if  it 's 
wood,  he  does  not  pile  it  up  square,  but  throws 
it  into  a  clumsy  heap.  When  he  cleans  boots,  or 
knives,  or  whatever  it  is,  he  raises  such  a  dust  that 
he  sends  you  through  a  fit  of  sneezing ;  but  for  all 
that,  he  does  a  good  deal  of  work,  and  as  I  never  let 
him  enter  my  kitchen,  it  does  not  signify  so  much." 

"Then  you  would  rather  do  without  Margot, 
eh  ? "  asked  Madame  Mold. 

"  Oh  !  I  think  I  can  put  up  with  her,  Madame, 
for  M.  Jean's  sake.  What  Madame  Jean  says  is 
very  true  about  his  liking  to  have  sometimes  one 
of  the  dishes  he  was  accustomed  to ;  and  I  know 
Margot,  she  is  a  sensible,  well-mannered  girl.  I 
fancy  I  shall  be  able  to  make  something  of  her,  so 
that  she  may  be  a  credit  to  me  in  Paris  when  M. 
Jean's  friends  visit  him." 

And  so,  Toinette's  leave  being  given,  Margot 
came  to  Champignol  with  her  master  and  mis- 
tress, who  afterwards  noticed  a  great  improvement 
in  her  cookery. 

They  remained  a  fortnight,  during  which  Jean 
went  to  see  the  Marquis,  but  could  not  undertake 
the  decoration  of  his  salon,  on  account  of  the  works 
begun  in  Paris  ;  however,  he  agreed  to  paint  for  M. 
de  Civray  two  important  panels,  which  he  would 
have  a  right  to  exhibit  first.     When  he  came  back 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  247 

from  the  chateau  he  told  his  mother  that  he  had 
been  painfully  impressed  by  the  altered  looks  of 
the  Marquis.  "  Still,  he  ought  to  be  pleased  with 
the  news  he  has  confided  to  me.  The  Countess 
soon  hopes  to  have  a  child." 

"  I  daresay  he  has  more  dread  than  hope  about 
the  event,"  said  M.  Mole ;  "  he  looks  upon  it  as 
most  important  for  the  future  of  the  family,  par- 
ticularly if  it  is  an  heir,  as  he  is  absolutely 
determined  to  remain  single." 

"  Has  he  told  you  so  ?  "  his  wife  asked. 

"  Yes,  quite  lately,  when  he  consulted  me  about 
La  Saulaie,  which  he  wishes  to  secure  as  a  piecl-a- 
terre  when  he  comes  down  to  Champignol  from  the 
chateau.  Now  that  the  owner  has  decided  to  re- 
main in  Paris  and  to  sell  her  property  here,  I  hope 
to  get  it  for  the  Marquis  by  private  agreement." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  my  aunt,  in  case  she  comes  to 
stay  here  again,  as  it  will  be  difficult  to  find  such 
a  charming  place  as  La  Saulaie,"  Olive  said. 

"  It  would  be  impossible  on  the  same  terms," 
answered  M.  Mold  ;  "  but  I  knew  that  such  a  fine 
property  as  the  one  attached  to  the  house  could 
not  be  allowed  to  remain  unproductive  much 
longer.     It 's  worth  four  hundred  thousand  francs." 

"Then  you  have  refused  the  Marquis,"  said 
Olive  in  a  low  voice  and  bending  close  to  He'lene. 
"  I  think  you  were  right,  dear,  but  I  pity  him ;  I 
always  knew  he  was  in  love  with  you." 


248  GOLDEN   MEDIOCBITY. 


XVI. 


A  great  shock  awaited  Helene  on  her  arrival 
in  Paris  ;  she  found  Madame  Ledoyen  in  such  a 
weak  condition  that  she  could  hardly  leave  her 
couch  by  the  drawing-room  fire,  and  was  unable 
to  relieve  by  work  the  tediousness  of  a  life  en- 
tirely concentrated  in  one  thought,  —  her  son. 

"You  look  very  tired,"  He'lene  said  to  her,  for 
it  was  impossible  to  pretend  that  the  change  was 
not  noticeable. 

"  Yes,  tired  of  waiting,"  she  answered  in  a  trem- 
ulous voice.  She  had  no  longer  the  strength  to 
disguise  her  grief. 

Still  Hdleue  went  on  attempting  to  cheer  her : 
"  More  than  half  your  waiting  time  is  over  now ; 
you  must  begin  to  look  forward  to  Maxime's  return 
and  to  your  happy  meeting." 

"I  could  hardly  bear  for  another  eighteen 
months  what  I  have  borne  since  he  went  away, 
even  with  the  certainty  that  it  would  end  then; 
and  I  have  no  such  certainty." 

"  I  thought  Maxime  had  promised  to  come  back 
after  three  years,"  said  Helene,  growing  pale  and 
in  a  faltering  voice. 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  249 

"  No,  he  made  no  promise ;  he  said  that  he 
took  an  engagement  for  three  years,  and  would 
see  afterwards." 

"  Oh !  but  he  is  sure  to  come  as  soon  as  he  is 
free." 

Madame  Ledoyen  shook  her  head  dubiously. 

"  It 's  very  wrong  to  make  yourself  ill  with 
anxiety ;  you  ought  now  to  take  care  of  your 
health,  so  that  he  may  find  you  strong  and  well 
when  he  comes.  I  will  tell  you  what  we  must 
do,  now  that  I  am  near :  we  must  consult  a  good 
doctor,  and  I  shall  nurse  and  cure  you.  Think 
how  painful  it  would  be  for  Maxime  to  find  you 
ailing  on  his  return!" 

"  But,  my  dear  Helene,  I  am  not  ill,  and  doctors 
can  do  me  no  good." 

"  Have  you  told  Maxime  of  this  weakness  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  I  don't  want  him  to  be  wretched  on 
my  account."  She  put  a  slightly  bitter  emphasis 
on  the  word  "  my,"  which  did  not  escape  the  girl's 
sensitiveness.  "  I  always  say  that  I  am  quite  well ; 
for  even  if  I  were  really  dangerously  ill,  the  time 
the  news  would  take  before  reaching  him,  together 
with  that  required  for  his  voyage,  would  make  him 
too  late  to  find  me." 

"  But  luckily,  as  you  said,  you  are  not  ill ;  only 
I  don't  like  to  see  you  neglecting  to  strengthen 
yourself.  I  am  sure  if  Maxime  knew  how  weak 
you  are  he  would  insist  upon  getting  the  advice  of 


250  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

a  doctor;  that  is  why  I  asked  if  you  had  told 
him." 

In  spite  of  remonstrances  and  pleadings,  Madame 
Ledoyen  gave  no  promise.  It  was  easy  to  see  that 
she  did  not  care  to  live,  and  Hellene  was  horrified 
at  the  thought  that  she  might  be  the  cause  of  her 
death.  She  told  her  fears  to  Jean,  and  discovered 
that  he  had  entertained  the  same  for  some  time. 
"I  had  even  thought  of  writing  to  Maxime,"  he 
said  ;  "  but  I  put  it  off,  hoping  that  his  mother 
might  get  better.  As  she  grows  worse,  however, 
I  think  he  must  be  told.  He  would  have  a  right 
to  reproach  us  afterwards  for  not  having  warned 
him,  if  he  lost  her." 

As  they  were  both  of  the  same  opinion,  he  wrote 
shortly  after  this  :  — 

"  I  hope  you  '11  forgive  me,  my  dear  fellow,  for  sending 
you  bad  news  of  your  mother's  health.  She  says  she  is 
not  ill,  but  the  fact  is,  your  absence  is  killing  her, — at 
least  I  think  so,  and  so  does  Helene.  There  is  no  imme- 
diate danger,  but  we  notice  a  gradual  diminution  of 
strength  every  time  we  see  her.  Now  you  are  not  to 
fancy  that  I  am  mincing  matters;  I  state  the  facts  just 
as  they  are,  only  I  thought  you  ought  to  be  told,  even  if 
our  fears  are  exaggerated.  Could  you  not  get  a  leave  of 
absence?  I  believe  that  would  effect  a  certain  cure,  with- 
out any  other  medicine. 

"  If  you  come,  you  '11  find  me  as  proud  as  a  peacock  on 
account  of  my  success,  of  my  medal,  and  of  my  wife.  I 
have  a  good  mind  to  give  an  order  to  your  Company 
(through   you)  for  a  set  of  their  finest  diamonds,  to  make 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  251 

Olive  a  present.  You  could  get  them  cheap  for  me,  I  dare- 
say, being  on  the  spot.  Well,  everything  considered,  I  '11 
wait  till  I  get  a  fii'3t  medal  and  more  commissions;  I  ex- 
pect you  to  admire  my  prudent  conduct  under  the  circum- 
stances. Perhaps  you  will  have  filled  your  pockets  with 
diamonds,  and  you  may  be  disposed  to  exchange  a  few  of 
your  stones  against  some  of  my  masterpieces:  that  would 
do  very  well.  I  should  not  mind  their  being  only  Cape 
diamonds,  provided  they  are  white,  as  you  told  me  that 
the  white  ones  were  sold  as  Brazilians,  just  as  the  yellow- 
ish Brazilians  were  said  to  come  from  the  Cape,  —  to 
save  the  reputation  of  Brazil! 

"I  have  not  much  news  to  interest  you.  except,  per- 
haps, that  Helene  seems  decided  a  coiffer  Sainte  Catherine  ; 
my  mother  tells  me  she  has  refused  scores  of  offers.  The 
fact  is,  she  was  right.  I  don't  see  any  one  worthy  of  her, 
—  except  one  that  you  know. 

"  The  idea  of  seeing  you  sooner  than  I  had  expected, 

makes  me  crazy  with  joy;   so,  old  fellow,  don't  disappoint 

me  if  you  can  help  it. 

"  Jean. 

"P.  S.  Xot  a  word  of  this  letter  to  your  mother, 
of  course." 

Olive,  delighted  at  the  importance  she  had  ac- 
quired, acted  her  character  of  chaperone  towards  her 
sister  with  a  punctiliousness  which  vastly  amused 
her  husband.  "The  idea  of  you  protecting  Hdlene 
is  irresistible!"  he  used  to  say,  laughing  outright, 
when  they  went  out  together. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  why  ? "  Olive  an- 
swered, pursing  up  her  lips  and  pretending  to  be 
wounded. 


252  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

"  Because  she  looks  ten  times  more  demure  than 
you  do,  my  pretty  flitting  bird,"  he  would  say, 
giving  her  a  kiss ;  "  and  I  don't  fancy  that  I 
should  let  you  go  without  me,  were  it  not  for  her 
sedateness." 

"  Don't  I  look  like  a  married  woman,  then  ? " 

"  Not  very  matronly  yet,  despite  your  bonnet- 
strings  ;  still,  I  will  let  you  go  if  you  promise  and 
swear  to  come  back  early.  Is  it  not  magnanimous 
when  I  remain  shut  up,  daubing  away  ? " 

"  Well,  if  you  promise  to  be  very  good,  —  that 
is,  to  work  very  hard,  without  smoking  too  many 
cigarettes,  —  we  may  perhaps  be  home  for  an 
early  dinner,  and  then  to  the  theatre." 

"  That 's  a  capital  plan ;  I  '11  work  like  mad  ! " 

Under  pretext  of  entertaining  Hdlene  during 
her  stay,  Olive  and  Jean,  who  were  both  very  fond 
of  the  theatre,  often  proposed  to  go,  and  often  went. 
"It's  rather  expensive,"  they  said  to  each  other, 
"but  we  shall  economize  when  we  are  by  our- 
selves ;  besides,  it  is  still  our  honeymoon." 

When  Hdlene  left  them,  a  month  later,  it  was 
with  the  grateful  conviction  that  they  were  per- 
fectly happy. 

M.  Mule"  had  come  for  his  daughter,  and  vainly 
attempted  to  induce  Madame  Ledoyen  to  accom- 
pany them.  In  vain  did  he  represent  that  the 
] mrcr  air  of  the  country  and  a  change  of  scene 
would  help  her  to  regain  strength.     She  thanked 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  253 

him    for    his    kindness,    but    remained    obdurate. 
"  She  does  not  wish  to  recover,"  lie  said  to  himself. 
Two    months    later,  he  received    the    following 
letter  from  Madame  Ledoyen  :  — 

My  dear  Friexd,  — I  cannot  wait  an  hour  before  tell- 
ing you  my  happy  news.  Maxime  is  coming  home !  Judge 
of  my  joy.  He  is  called  here  by  the  directors  of  his  Com- 
pany to  be  consulted  upon  important  matters,  and  does 
not  know  yet  whether  he  will  be  sent  back  afterwards; 
but  I  won't  think  about  this  possibility.  The  certainty 
of  seeing  him  soon  —  in  about  five  weeks,  he  says  —  has 
made  me  already  so  much  better  that  I  expect  to  be  quite 
well  to  receive  him ;  and  I  don't  intend  to  let  him  know 
that  I  have  been  ill  at  all.     Pray  keep  my  secret. 

I  trust  you  will  pardon  my  seeming  ungratefulness 
and  heartlessness  when  I  saw  you  last,  for  I  was  so  utterly 
wretched  that  I  wished  I  might  be  relieved  forever  from 
such  pains  as  I  endured.  Xow  I  shall  be  more  reason- 
able, and  perhaps  happy  still,  if  Maxime  remains  with 
me. 

With  heartfelt  thanks  for  all  your  kindness,  I  remain, 

my  dear  friend,  yours,  etc. 

Marie  Ledoyen. 

The  conflict  of  emotions  was  very  great  in  the 
heart  of  Hedene  when  she  read  this  letter.  Shu 
did  not  share  Madame  Ledoyen's  hope  of  seeing 
Maxime  remain  permanently,  because  she  was 
aware  of  the  cause  that  brought  him  home.  He 
did  not  wish  to  come  ;  he  did  not  come  of  his  own 
accord.  Filial  duty  called  him  to  his  mother's 
side,  and  he   obeyed   it ;  no  doubt  as  soon  as  his 


254  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

tears  were  relieved  he  would  go  away  again.  Ma- 
dame Ledoyeu,  kept  in  happy  ignorance  of  Jean's 
letter  to  her  son,  might  believe  that  he  was  glad 
of  the  opportunity  to  return,  which  had  been  in- 
vented for  her  sake ;  but  Helene  had  no  such  illu- 
sions. Still,  she  began  to  dream  that  it  would 
be  sweet  to  see  him  again  and  to  renew  the  old 
friendly  intercourse,  if  he  came;  but  would  he 
come  to  them  after  his  rejection  ?  ...  It  was  not 
likely;  but  in  spite  of  all  her  doubts  she  was 
hopeful. 

In  the  beginning  of  April,  Irene  de  Civray  was 
brought  by  her  brother  to  see  Hdlene,  who  never 
went  to  the  chateau  now  that  la  Marquise  was  dead. 
Her  father  did  not  much  like  to  meet  the  Countess, 
whose  manners  with  him  were  somewhat  patroni- 
zing. The  late  Marquise  had  always  treated  him 
on  a  footing  of  equality,  well  knowing  that  he  would 
accept  no  other,  ami  confident  that  he  would  always 
act  with  the  reserve  of  a  perfect  gentleman ;  her 
way  of  introducing  him  to  her  titled  and  aristo- 
cratic acquaintances  plainly  indicated  that  she  re- 
quired them  to  treat  him  as  she  herself  did.  "  M. 
Mole',"  she  used  to  say,  "  our  kind  neighbor  and 
trusty  friend."  Of  course  after  this  he  was,  for 
the  time  being,  the  equal  of  those  present.  But 
he  was  not  for  the  Countess  what  he  had  been 
for  la  Marquise;  and  although  M.  de  Civray 
had  plainly  shown  what  degree  of  politeness  he 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  255 

expected  for  M.  Mold  when  he  required  all  the 
family  to  attend  at  his  son's  wedding,  there 
was  an  unavoidable  change  which  kept  M.  Mole* 
and  his  daughter  aloof.  Irene  understood  it ; 
but  suffering  as  she  did  from  the  altered  customs 
of  the  chateau,  she  could  not  bear  to  be  entirely- 
deprived  of  her  friend,  and  had  begged  her  brother 
to  take  her  occasionally  to  Madame  Mold's.  This 
he  had  consented  to  do  several  times,  leaving 
her  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  coming  to  fetch  her 
afterwards.  On  these  occasions  he  exchanged  only 
a  few  phrases  with  Helene ;  but  these  rapid  mo- 
ments were  the  happiest  of  his  existence  :  his  sister 
seemed  so  much  brighter,  so  much  cheered  by  these 
visits,  after  pouring  her  pent-up  sorrows  and  confi- 
dences into  her  friend's  heart,  and  Helene's  man- 
ners with  him  had  undergone  a  remarkable  change. 
No  longer  afraid  of  what  he  might  say,  since  deli- 
cacy forbade  him  the  dreaded  subject,  she  allowed 
herself  to  be  more  friendly,  more  sympathetic ;  she 
talked  to  him  with  ease  and  readiness,  and  he  was 
aware  of  a  much  closer  intimacy  between  them, 
and  of  warmer  sentiments  towards  him :  it  was  a 
sort  of  bitter  solace  to  his  hopeless  love,  and  at 
the  same  time  a  recognition  of  his  hisrh  character. 
HeK-ne  wished  him  to  feel  that,  unable  to  give  him 
her  love,  she  offered  her  friendship. 

This  time  Irene  had  two  important  pieces  of 
news  to  communicate :  the  first  was  the  birth  of  a 


256  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

son  to  her  brother  the  Count,  over  which  she  greatly 
rejoiced ;  the  second,  her  coining  journey  to  Nice 
where  she  would  stay  some  time  with  the  Marquis 
on  the  advice  of  his  doctor.  The  climate  of  Charn- 
pignol  was  too  variable  for  the  present  state  of  his 
lungs,  and  they  would  have  to  remain  in  the  South 
till  summer  time.  She  seemed  to  enjoy  the  pros- 
pect of  a  change,  and  gayly  took  leave  of  her 
friend ;  while  Helene,  incapable  of  shaking  off  a 
host  of  sad  forebodings,  looked  after  the  retreating 
figure  of  the  Marquis,  her  eyes  full  of  tears. 

By  a  strange  coincidence,  Mrs.  Stodard  wrote  to 
He'leue  a  few  days  afterwards  to  tell  her  that  she 
was  going  to  take  her  stepdaughter  to  Nice,  and 
how  pleased  she  would  be  if  they  could  contrive  to 
meet  somewhere.  She  should  stop  in  Paris  for  a 
few  days,  to  have  the  pleasure  of  calling  upon 
M.  and  Madame  Jean  Mole ;  perhaps  if  the  Salon 
were  open,  lldlene  would  pilot  her  through  it,  etc. 

Hdlene  would  have  been  delighted  to  see  Mrs. 
Stodard,  whose  kindness  in  London  she  had  not 
forgotten  ;  but  she  hardly  knew  how  to  manage  it. 
She  could  not  ask  her  to  come  to  Champignol,  it 
was  too  much  out  of  her  way.  Then  at  any  other 
time  it  would  have  been  simple  enough  to  go  to 
Paris;  but  as  Maxime  was  expected  just  at  that 
time,  and  "as  she  could  not  avoid  calling  upon  his 
mother,  it  was  very  awkward.  Still,  she  wrote 
that  she  would  try  to  meet  Mrs.  Stodard  in  Paris. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  257 

Meanwhile  her  heart  yearned  for  news  of  Maxime's 
arrival ;  it  must  be  very  near  now. 

One  evening,  at  dusk,  there  came  a  telegram  for 
her  father;  and  never  doubting  it  contained  what 
she  had  been  awaiting  for  some  time,  she  took  it 
herself  to  the  study,  and  listened,  much  moved, 
to  hear  the  contents.     M.  Mole  read  aloud  :  — 

The  "  Naiade,"  with  Maxime  on  board,  is  overdue  ;  the 
Company  have  no  neAvs.     Oh  !  where  must  I  inquire  1 

Marie  Ledoyen. 

M.  Mold's  voice  failed,  and  he  could  not  de- 
tach his  eyes  from  the  blue  paper,  but  went  on 
reading  it  over  and  over  again,  though  he  had 
understood  the  contents  but  too  well.  He'lene 
instinctively  caught  the  back  of  a  chair  to  steady 
herself.  For  a  moment  everything  whirled  about 
her,  and  she  felt  very  faint ;  but  she  rallied  soon, 
and  went  to  lay  her  hand  upon  her  father's  shoul- 
der. He  looked  up,  and  shaking  himself  energeti- 
cally, said :  "  There  is  nothing  in  it  to  alarm  us, 
only  we  were  taken  rather  by  surprise;  it  hap- 
pens very  frequently  that  vessels  are  kept  out  a 
few  days  longer  by  very  trilling  accidents.  It 
may  be  the  weather,  or  it  may  be  something  get- 
ting out  of  order  in  the  machinery ;  I  must  at  once 
write  all  this  to  poor  Madame  Ledoyen,  who  is  so 
apt  to  get  anxious." 

These  reflections,  although  perfectly  reasonable, 

17 


258  GOLDEN   MEDIOCKITY. 

brought  very  little  comfort  to  Hdlene,  who  saw 
that  her  father's  brow  betrayed  serious  uneasiness. 

Two  days  passed,  bringing  no  news  ;  a  week  fol- 
lowed, during  which  M.  Mole"  telegraphed  the  same 
inquiries  to  the  Steamship  Company  every  day,  and 
every  day  the  same  answer  was  returned  :  "  No  in- 
formation has  reached  us  yet."  The  dreaded  con- 
sequence soon  followed,  —  Madame  Ledoyen, unable 
to  resist  the  strain  of  constant  anxiety,  had  been 
stricken  with  paralysis.  M.  Mole-  immediately  de- 
cided to  start  for  Paris  with  He'lene :  his  daughter 
would  take  care  of  the  afflicted  mother,  while  he 
did  everything  in  his  power  to  ascertain  the  fate  of 
her  son. 

When  they  saw  Madame  Ledoyen  she  had  recov- 
ered consciousness,  but  was  so  weak  and  feverish 
that  she  could  not  leave  her  bed.  The  doctor  had 
recommended  that  she  should  be  kept  as  quiet  as 
possible;  but  how  was  that  to  be  achieved  when 
she  continually  asked  for  newspapers  and  insisted 
upon  reading  herself  all  the  despatches,  both  in  the 
morning  and  evening  editions  ?  Nothing  could  be 
withheld  from  her ;  and  this  dangerous  excitement 
was  rapidly  wearing  away  the  little  strength  she 
still  possessed.  He'lene  had  offered  to  read  aloud 
whatever  might  interest  her:  but  she  was  too  sus- 
picious  to  accept ;  she  even  sent  her  maid  to  get 
other  papers  than  those  brought  by  her  friends,  in 
older  to  be  certain  that  nothing  was  kept  from  her. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  259 

In  this  manner  she  became  acquainted  with  the 
terrible  intelligence  headed  :  — 

COLLISION  OF  THE   NAIADE  AND   MERMAN. 

Fearful  loss  of  life  at  sea. 

Marseilles,  April  28. 
The  "Merman"  entered  our  port  to-day  to  be  repaired, 
after  having  collided  with  the  "  Na'iade  "  near  Cape  Verd 
and  having  sustained  serious  damage.  She  brings  four- 
teen passengers  of  the  "  Na'iade  "  who  could  be  rescued 
before  their  ship  sank.  A  boat  full  of  people  was  sucked 
under  the  ill-fated  vessel,  together  with  a  young  engineer 
and  his  dog,  whose  united  efforts  had  helped  several 
persons  into  the  boats  lowered  from  the  "Merman." 
After  the  sinking  of  the  "  Naiade "  the  "Merman"  re- 
mained on  the  spot  for  two  hours,  in  the  hope  of  saving 
those  who  might  be  floating  about,  especially  the  young 
man  who  had  shown  such  courage;  but  he  had  disap- 
peared, and  no  trace  of  his  faithful  dog  could  be  found. 
They  must  have  perished  exhausted. 

Madame  Ledoyen  fainted  before  reading  the 
details  which  followed.  When  she  rallied,  she 
felt  M.  Mold's  hands  holding  hers,  and  she  saw 
Helene  kneeling  at  the  bedside,  her  face  buried 
in  the  folds  of  the  blankets,  her  shoulders  violently- 
shaken  by  irrepressible  sobs.  She  wrenched  her 
hand  free  from  the  friendly  grasp  rudely  to  push 
away  the  girl's  head.  "Get  up,"  she  said  in  a 
harsh,  unnatural  voice;  "get  up,  and  leave  me 
alone !     I  can't  bear  your  presence."     Pier  eyes 


260  GOLDEN  MEDIOCRITY. 

were  dry,  her  mouth  twitched,  a  high  color  was  on 
her  cheek.  Hdlene,  frightened,  had  risen  to  her 
feet.  "Oh,  don't  send  me  away!"  she  cried  amid 
her  sobs.  "  My  heart  is  broken  like  yours ;  I 
loved  him  ! "  And  she  threw  her  arms  about 
Madame  Ledoyen,  who  could  only  clasp  the  trem- 
bling form  to  her  bosom  and  let  her  tears  fall  fast 
upon  the  young  head  bent  like  her  own  by  the 
same  sorrow.  Her  anger  did  not  resist  the  humble 
confession,  the  tender  appeal.  "  You  loved  him, 
dear,"  she  whispered  low.  "  "We  shall  mourn 
together." 

Vainly  did  M.  Mole-  attempt  to  rekindle  some 
hope  after  this,  vainly  did  he  recall  many  instan- 
ces of  wonderful  escapes  from  the  same  kind  of  ca- 
lamity which  destroyed  the  "  Na'iade,"  and  vainly 
did  he  insist  upon  the  fact  that  Maxime  had  not 
been  seen  sinking,  nor  had  the  body  of  Pacha 
floated  among  the  corpses.  "  They  must  have  sunk 
together,  exhausted,"  said  poor  Madame  Ledoyen 
amid  her  tears.  "  Ah,  my  friend,  let  me  try  to  bear 
my  cross  with  resignation,  that  I  may  join  him 
soon  !"  From  that  moment  her  grief  was  calmer. 
Her  tears  flowed  quietly  and  constantly  ;  she  hardly 
spoke,  but  sometimes  pressed  Ildlene's  cold  hands 
affectionately,  and  looked  pitifully  into  the  swollen 
eyes  and  blanched  face. 

It  was  a  terrible  time  for  M.  Mole*,  who  read 
his  daughter's  despair  in  every  one  of  her  actions, 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  261 

though  she  fought  against  herself  with  great  energy 
for  his  sake.  He  longed  to  remove  his  child  from 
the  mournful  influences  surrounding  her,  but  did 
not  see  how  it  could  be  done  without  inflicting 
another  cruel  blow  upon  Madame  Ledoyen.  That 
she  would  soon  succumb  under  her  sorrow  was 
only  too  probable ;  but  must  he  allow  Hedene  to 
remain  with  her  till  the  end?  Meanwhile  he  tried 
to  persuade  himself  that  all  hope  was  not  lost,  and 
indefatigably  inquired  for  details  and  particulars 
at  the  Ministere  de  la  Marine,  where  he  Lad 
friends,  or  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  the 
bureaux  maritimes  for  the  same  purpose. 

A  week  after  the  fatal  intelligence  had  reached 
Madame  Ledoyen,  Hedene  noticed  that  her  father, 
usually  so  punctual  for  his  morning  call,  was  late. 
He  took  his  meals  with  his  daughter,  who  stayed 
with  her  friend,  and  their  dejeuner  was  at  ten;  still 
the  clock  struck  half-past,  and  then  eleven,  and 
M.  Mold  had  not  arrived.  A  great  anguish  wrung 
Hedene's  heart.  Had  anything  happened  to  her 
father?  Madame  Ledoyen  had  not  noticed  his 
absence,  and  the  girl  dared  not  mention  her  fears. 
At  last — it  was  near  twelve  —  the  well-known 
step  was  heard,  and  Hedene's  anxious  ear  detected 
something  peculiar  in  it  which  made  her  hasten 
to  look  in  her  father's  face ;  but  there  was  no  re- 
sponse to  her  eagerness,  except  a  long  and  tender 
embrace.     During  dejeuner  she  remarked  that  her 


262  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

father's  appetite  seemed  better  and  that  he  ate 
with  a  certain  pleasure.  "What  of  that  ?  It  was  so 
late  !  .  .  .  How  strange,  too,  that  instead  of  resting 
his  eyes  upon  hers  with  the  watchful  expression 
they  had  assumed  of  late,  he  avoided  looking  at 
her,  and  there  was  in  his  voice  an  unwonted 
tremor  !  .  .  .  She  furtively  noted  all  this,  together 
with  the  restlessness  which  made  him  hurry  his 
meal  and  walk  to  and  fro  while  he  drank  his 
coffee.  "  I  must  be  off,"  he  said  as  soon  as  he 
had  finished  it.  "  In  case  I  do  not  come  to-night 
or  to-morrow,  you  must  not  be  anxious,  He'lene. 
I  may  be  obliged  to  absent  myself  for  a  short 
time;  but  Jean  and  Olive  will  not  leave  }^ou  alone 
in  that  case."  He  tried  to  speak  naturally,  uncon- 
cernedly ;  but  his  tremulous  voice  betrayed  him. 

"  Oh,  father,"  cried  He'lene,  leaning  her  face  on 
his  breast,  "  you  know  something  ! " 

"  Hush,  child  !  hush,  dear!"  he  answered  in  an 
alarmed  tone.  "She  might  hear,  and  it  might  kill 
her  l " 

"  Oh,  tell  me,  tell  me  what  it  is  ! "  and  she 
I  ightened  her  hands  over  her  heart  and  listened 
breathlessly. 

"  Compose  yourself.  ...  It  is  not  much ;  it  may 
not  be  true;  it's  very  vague.  ...  A  vessel  lias 
brought  to  Marseilles  a  survivor  from  a  shipwreck 
—  they  say  he  lias  been  picked  up  from  one  of 
the  Cape  Verd  islands." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  263 

"Do  they  mention  the  name  of  the  ship  in 
which  he  was  wrecked  ? " 

"  Yes  .  .  .  the  '  Naiade,'  they  say ;  but  it  may 
be  a  mistake,"  said  M.  Mole,  taking  his  daughter 
in  his  arms  and  gently  stroking  her  hair. 

"Oh,  father,  go  !  I  shall  pray,  I  shall  try  not  to 
hope  ;  but  do  not  keep  me  long  without  news." 

"  No,  dear ;  but  I  must  go  now,  for  the  answers 
to  my  telegrams  are  sent  to  Jean's  address.  I 
dared  not  expose  Madame  Ledoyen  to  any  excite- 
ment." Another  tender  kiss  on  her  brow,  and  he 
was  gone. 

In  spite  of  all  her  efforts  to  remain  calm,  Hdlene 
was  alternately  thrown  from  the  pinnacle  of  hope 
into  the  abyss  of  despair.  She  found  it  almost 
unendurable  to  sit  there  thinking  with  her  aching 
brain,  which  could  not  rest,  and  awaiting  and 
dreading  news,  listening  to  every  sound  with 
throbbing  heart  and  in  a  paroxysm  of  agitation. 
From  time  to  time  she  shut  her  eyes  and  tried  to 
lull  her  senses  into  a  state  of  forget  fulness.  She 
wished  to  faint,  to  die,  —  anything  rather  than  feel 
any  longer  ;  but  she  was  strong  and  healthy,  and 
could  suffer  much. 

Her  father  did  not  come  to  dinner,  but  sent  a 
commissionnaire  with  a  short  note:  "It  is  affirmed 
that  the  rescued  passenger  was  in  the  '  Naiade.' 
I  shall  know  his  name  some  time  to-night.  .  .  . 
Let  us  hope." 


264  GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY. 

Oh,  the  weary  hours  to  be  counted  by  every 
one  of  their  long  minutes  till  dawn  !  The  passion- 
ate prayers  and  entreaties  sent  heavenwards !  The 
thought  of  what  might  be  if  God  willed  !  .  .  . 

Towards  morning  Hellene,  worn  out  by  such 
prolonged  expectation,  was  beginning  to  be  faint 
and  sick.  She  had  not  gone  to  bed,  but  had  lain 
on  the  sofa  in  Madame  Ledoyen's  bedroom,  and 
felt  the  want  of  a  little  fresh  air.  Not  to  disturb 
the  sufferer,  she  thought  she  would  go  to  the 
next  room  to  breathe  at  the  window.  As  she  got 
near  the  door  she  heard  a  shuffle,  a  scream ;  and 
as  she  opened  it  she  was  nearly  thrown  down  by 
the  rush  of  a  large  dog,  who  ran  straight  to  Ma- 
dame Ledoyen's  bed  and  impetuously  licked  her 
hands,  her  face,  and  whined  and  barked  wildly. 

"  Pacha ! "  cried  Madame  Ledoyen,  raising  her- 
self with  sudden  energy;  and  clasping  the  great 
black  head  in  her  arms,  she  continued:  "  Pacha, 
oi'i  est  ton  maltre  ? " 

Pacha  gave  the  only  answer  in  his  power;  he 
looked  towards  the  door  and  frantically  jumped 
and  whined,  smelling  every  object  in  the  room, 
to  come  back  to  his  mistress  and  lick  her  hands 


again. 


Ilelene  had  come  trembling  to  the  bedside  and 
fondly  stroked  Pacha's  silky  coat;  he  knew  her 
well,  and  returned  her  caresses. 

Madame  Ledoyen  and  Ildlene  looked  at  each 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  265 

other,  but  dared  not  speak.  The  girl  passed  one 
arm  around  her  friend's  neck  and  held  her  fast; 
they  both  scrutinized  the  dog's  movements.  Now 
he  was  sitting  wagging  his  tail  in  quieter  content- 
ment, his  intelligent  eyes  fixed  upon  those  of  his 
mistress. 

"  Oh,  Helene  !  what  can  it  mean  ? "  faintly 
gasped  Madame  Ledoyen.  The  girl's  sobs  were  her 
sole  answer.  "  0  mon  Dieu  !  mon  Dicu  !  give  me 
back  my  child,  or  let  me  die ! "  murmured  the  poor 
mother  as  she  sank  on  her  pillows.  Presently 
Pacha  pricked  his  ears,  jumped  up,  and  sprang 
through  the  open  door  to  the  stairs,  barking 
tumultuously.  Madame  Ledoyen  closed  her  eyes, 
while  Hdlene  stared,  incapable  of  moving.  They 
were  both  conscious  of  hurried  footsteps  in  the 
adjoining  room,  of  a  short  pause  at  the  door,  of  a 
panting  breath,  a  spring,  a  shower  of  kisses  upon 
the  poor  mother's  eyes,  hair,  and  brow,  and  of  a 
tight  clasp  uniting  them  together. 

"  C'est  toi !  c'est  bien  toi ! "  repeated  Madame 
Ledoyen,  looking  rapturously  at  her  son. 

"Yes,  you  see  him  strong  and  hale,"  cheerily 
said  M.  Mold,  whose  pace  was  not  equal  to 
Maxime's,  and  who  had  just  entered  the  room. 
"  Down,  Pacha !  down,  you  betrayer !  .  .  .  How 
slily  he  escaped  us,  the  indiscreet  rogue,  while  we 
were  carefully  planning  how  to  prepare  you  for 
this  resurrection,  Madame  Ledoyen!" 


266  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

"  0  mon  ami  !"  she  said,  holding  out  one  of  her 
hands  to  him,  and  retaining  her  son's  in  the  other, 
"happiness  requires  no  preparation.  See  how  I 
hear  it !  My  dent  of  gratitude  to  you  is  increased 
tenfold." 

"  We  will  talk  of  that  hereafter.  First  of  all, 
you  must  recover  your  strength  to  enjoy  what  is 
in  store  for  you." 

"  Ah !  but  I  feel  strong  already.  Maxima, 
promise  that  you  will  not  go  away  .  .  .  again  ! " 
she  said,  more  and  more  faintly. 

"  No,  no,  never ;  be  sure  of  it  !  " 

She  had  swooned,  but  quickly  came  to  herself 
again  under  his  caresses ;  then  she  drew  his  head 
close  to  her  lips  and  murmured :  "  I  believe  it,  for 
Hellene  would  not  let  you  go  another  time." 

"  Have  you  heard  what  my  mother  says,  He'lene, 
and  can  it  be  true  ? "  he  asked  tenderly. 

"  It  would  be  true  if  I  had  still  any  influence," 
she  answered,  blushing. 

"  Then  is  it  decided  that  I  am  to  stay,  between 
you  ? " 

"  If  you  like." 

"  Let  me  seal  the  pact,"  he  said  joyfully,  and 
with  infinite  tenderness  he  kissed  the  forehead  that 
was  bent  to  him.  "  At  last  mine  !  "  he  whispered 
softly. 

"And  forever!"  she  answered. 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  207 


CONCLUSION. 

Mrs.  Stodard  arrived  in  Paris  shortly  after 
these  events,  and  was  told  of  Hdlene's  approach- 
ing marriage.  Maxime  was  introduced  to  her, 
and  so  was  Pacha,  —  the  hero  of  the  day,  who 
had  saved  his  master's  life  when  he  sank  exhausted 
after  rescuing  seven  fellow-passengers,  and  who 
had  carried  him  senseless  to  the  nearest  island. 
Mrs.  Stodard  took  a  great  liking  for  Maxime,  and 
one  day  confidentially  said  to  Helene  :  "  You  have 
shown  wonderful  discernment  in  your  choice,  my 
dear.  At  one  time  I  was  rather  in  fear  of  your 
love  being  bestowed  unworthily." 

Hdlene  understood,  and  inwardly  thanked  God 
who  had  enlightened  her  in  time.  She  confided  to 
Mrs.  Stodard  a  part  of  M.  de  Civray's  history  (exclu- 
sive of  his  love  for  herself),  and  begged  that  lady 
to  send  news  and  to  watch  over  Irene  in  case  of 
any  misfortune  happening  to  her  brother.  Very 
likely  they  might  become  acquainted  at  Nice,  both 
being  the  friends  of  M.  Mole\ 

Madame  Ledoyen  rapidly  grew  better,  and  M. 
Mole"  said  that  she  might  be  intrusted  to  her  son's 
care  while  he  returned  with  Hdlene  to  his  long- 


268  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

neglected  wife.  But  Maxirae,  hardly  certain  yet 
of  the  reality  of  his  dream,  could  not  bear  the 
idea  of  a  separation  from  Hdlene,  however  short. 
"  When  I  was  hopeless,  I  could  tear  myself  from 
your  presence  only  with  the  greatest  effort,"  he  told 
her ;  "  now  that  you  are  mine,  it  is  impossible." 

In  consequence,  it  was  arranged  that  they  should 
all  go  back  to  Champignol  together,  where  Madame 
Ledoyen  would  be  in  the  most  favorable  conditions 
to  recruit  her  strength.  Madame  Mole"  received 
them  a  bras  ouvcrts;  and  considering  Pacha's  repu- 
tation, Toinette  allowed  him  a  rug  at  the  side  of 
the  kitchen-fire. 

"  How  is  this  ? "  exclaimed  M.  Mole",  greatly 
astonished,  when  he  beheld  Pacha's  comfortable 
establishment  for  the  first  time.  "  I  thought  you 
could  not  tolerate  even  Jean's  dogs,  Toinette  ! " 

"  That  is  true,  Monsieur ;  but  Monsieur  Jean's 
dogs  were  fit  only  to  kill  and  worry  poor  innocent 
rabbits  or  partridges,  while  this  one  has  saved 
many  people  and  his  master.  Why  should  not  I 
treat  him  as  well  as  des  Chretiens  qui  ne  Ic  valent 
pas?" 

"Your  reasoning  is  perfectly  just,  Toinette,  and 
I  hope  that  Pacha  will  duly  appreciate  the 
compliment." 

"I  believe  he  understands  most  things,  Mon- 
sieur, by  his  looks ;  but  I  am  sure  he  appreciates 
the  bones  I  give  him." 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  .  269 

Fame  reached  Maxime  even  at  Charapignol.^ 
The  passengers  he  had  saved  signed  an  address, 
which  came  to  him,  with  the  cross  of  the  legion 
d'honneur,  sent  at  their  request  by  the  Minister  of 
Marine ;  and  Helene  was  very  proud  to  fasten  the 
narrow  red  ribbon  in  his  button-hole.  The  Mayor 
of  Champiguol  wished  to  improve  the  occasion  by 
making  the  reading  of  the  address  and  presentation 
of  the  cross  the  subject  of  a  public  and  official 
ceremony.  But  as  Maxime  threatened  to  go  back 
to  the  Cape  if  these  intentions  were  carried  out, 
the  Mayor  had  to  be  contented  with  the  offer  of 
his  complimeuts  in  private,  regretting,  nevertheless, 
the  lustre  that  such  a  glorious  ceremony  would 
have  imparted  to  his  administration. 

Maxime  and  He'lene  were  to  be  married  in  July ; 
and  the  only  drawback  to  their  perfect  happiness 
was  the  absence  of  Mrs.  Stodard,  who  dared  not 
leave  Irene  de  Civray  (with  whom  she  had  become 
acquainted  early  at  Nice)  before  the  arrival  of  her 
sister-in-law.  The  state  of  the  Marquis  being 
such  as  to  alarm  his  doctors,  they  had  confided  to 
Mrs.  Stodard  that  it  was  a  case  of  phtisie  galo- 
pante,  and  that  it  was  time  his  relations  should  be 
summoned. 

The  wedding  was  delayed  on  account  of  this  sad 
news,  and  three  weeks  later  the  Marquis  died,  with 
the  satisfaction  of  learning  that  his  brother's  son, 
the  heir  of  the  house  de  Civray  de  Champignol, 


270  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

was  strong,  healthy,  and,  like  himself,  had  escaped 
the  hereditary  infirmity  of  deafness. 

Too  weak  to  write,  shortly  before  his  death  he 
had  dictated  to  Mrs.  Stodard  a  letter  for  Helene, 
in  which  "  he  thanked  her  for  her  delicate  sym- 
pathy, and  begged  that  her  friendship  might  be 
continued  to  his  poor  sister  Irene  when  he  was 
gone.  He  had  secured  La  Saulaie  to  offer  it  to  her 
on  her  marriage,  to  enable  the  whole  family  to 
meet  at  Champignol  even  when  M.  Mold's  house 
had  become  too  small  to  accommodate  his  children 
and  his  grandchildren ;  and  when  she  was  there, 
he  hoped  she  might  sometimes  visit  his  tomb, 
and  remember  that  within  it  was  a  heart  which 
had  loved  her  till  death." 

Helene  was  quite  overcome  by  her  grief  for  some 
time,  and  hardly  gave  a  thought  to  her  forthcom- 
ing marriage ;  by  degrees,  however,  she  yielded  to 
Maxime's  tender  entreaties,  and  was  married  to 
him  in  September.  Her  happiness  and  that  of 
her  husband  was  quite  of  a  different  order  from 
the  outward,  outspoken,  joyful  happiness  of  Jean 
and  Olive.  It  was  more  intimate,  more  private, 
more  sensitive;  there  was  in  it  something  at  once 
religious  and  ideal.  Theirs  was  a  perfect  union  of 
souls. 

Nothing  could  give  an  adequate  notion  of 
Toinette's  delight  on  the  wedding-day.  She  at- 
tributed the  marriage  to  no  other  power  than  that 


GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY.  271 

possessed  by  the  prayer  she  had  faithfully  recited 
for  that  purpose  ever  since  she  promised  Maxime 
to  do  so,  and  she  was  therefore  conscious  of  her 
own  importance  in  the  transaction.  She  contem- 
plated the  bride  with  boundless  admiration  during 
the  ceremony,  and  was  sorely  vexed  with  the  tears 
which  would  gather  in  her  eves  and  cloud  the  vision. 
" Et  dire,  Mademoiselle,  que  vous  eies  madctme  !  "  she 
exclaimed,  bewildered,  when  the  bride  re-entered 
the  paternal  house. 

"  Et  Madame  Maxime  Ledoyen,  encore!  Does 
that  sound  to  your  taste,  Toinette  ? "  asked  Max- 
ime with  a  smile. 

"  It  sounds  far  better  than  an  outlandish  name 
that  twists  your  mouth  out  of  decent  shape  to 
pronounce  it,"  she  answered  with  a  wink. 

M.  and  Madame  Mote's  children  live  in  Paris, 
but  frequently  go  to  Champignol,  on  account  of 
their  mother,  who  never  leaves  it.  Jean  is  now 
celebrated,  and  the  soirees  he  gives  in  his  studio 
have  become  famous.  Nobody  can  refuse  anything 
to  his  charming  wife,  so  that  }'ou  are  sure  to  hear 
there  the  best  songs  of  the  season  sung  by  the  best 
singers,  the  newest  monologue  recited  by  the  best 
actor,  the  last  successful  poem  read  by  the  author. 
Conversation  is  pleasantly  varied,  a  studio  being 
a  rendezvous  for  very  different  people.  It  is  not 
a  political  salon,  nor  a  religious  one,  neither  is  it 
forced  to  be  scientific  or  literary;  but  politicians, 


272  GOLDEN   MEDIOCRITY. 

savants,  writers,  and  artists  may  all  be  interested 
in  works  of  art,  and  may  meet  in  a  studio  and  find 
it  agreeable  to  talk  together. 

The  society  received  at  Maxime  Ledoyen's  is 
a  shade  more  serious  and  uniform.  M.  Mole's 
acquaintances  in  the  University  avail  themselves 
of  the  opportunity  for  meeting  him  again  in  his 
daughter's  house,  and  do  not  forget  it  afterwards ; 
so  that  several  of  the  learned  professors  of  the 
College  de  France  —  even  some  Immortels — find 
their  way  to  young  Madame  Ledoyen's  salon,  and 
take  pleasure  in  her  conversation,  her  music,  her 
beauty.  Great  financiers  are  also  her  guests  not 
infrequently,  on  account  of  her  husband's  profes- 
sion ;  and  her  brother  occasionally  brings  some  of 
his  Bohemian  friends,  "not  to  let  the  place  become 
too  solemn  for  him." 

Pearce  is  still  unmarried,  and  will  very  likely 
remain  forever  in  the  state  of  single-blessedness, 
as  no  woman  seems  to  unite  the  perfections  and 
perquisites  he  feels  entitled  to  demand  to  grace 
his  position  in  society,  now  that  Mrs.  Stodard  has 
convinced  him  that  her  decision  is  final.  Some- 
times he  stays  with  Olive  and  dean,  and  thinks 
that  their  life  is  not  devoid  of  charm;  at  other 
times  he  is  struck  by  the  fact  that  the  existence  of 
Maxime  Ledoyen  and  that  of  his  wife  seems  to  be 
very  happy  and  honored.  It  might  have  been  his, 
perhaps.     It  is  wonderful,  however,  that  they  can 


GOLDEN    MEDIOCRITY.  273 

maintain  their  position  in  the  world  with  so  little 
money  and  without  apparent  pinching.  How  is  it 
achieved  ?  No  doubt  they  are  penny  wise  and  un- 
ambitious. Decidedly,  Fate  had  contrived  to  bring 
about  what  was  best  for  every  one.  He  was  glad 
to  see  them  all  happy;  but  then,  they  were  French, 
therefore  easily  contented  with  golden  mediocrity. 


THE    END. 


University  Press  :  John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


Messrs.   Roberts   Brothers'    Publications. 

MRS.  HERNDON'S   INCOME. 

A    NOVEL. 

By  HELEN    CAMPBELL. 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  WHAT-TO-DO  CLUB." 

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"  Confirmed  novel-readers  who  have  regarded  fiction  as  created  for  amusement 
and  luxury  alone,  lay  down  this  book  with  a  new  and  serious  purpose  in  life.  The 
social  scientist  reads  it,  and  finds  the  solution  of  many  a  tangled  problem  ;  the 
philanthropist  finds  in  it  direction  and  counsel.  A  novel  written  with  a  purpose, 
of  which  never  for  an  instant  does  the  author  lose  sight,  it  is  yet  absorbing  in  its 
interest.  It  reveals  the  narrow  motives  and  the  intrinsic  selfishness  of  certain 
grades  of  social  life  ;  the  corruption  of  business  methods  ;  the  '  false,  fairy  gold' 
of  fashionable  charities,  and  'advanced'  thought.  Margaret  Wentworth  is  it 
typical  New  England  girl,  reflective,  absorbed,  full  of  passionate  and  repressed 
intensity  under  a  quiet  and  apparently  cold  exterior.  The  events  that  group 
themselves  about  her  life  are  the  natural  result  of  such  a  character  brought  into 
contact  with  real  life.    The  book  cannot  be  too  widely  read."  — Boston  Traveller. 

"  If  the  '  What-to-do  Club  '  was  clever,  this  is  decidedly  more  so.  It  is  a  pow- 
erful story,  and  is  evidently  written  in  some  degree,  we  cannot  quite  say  how  great 
a  degree,  from  fact.  The  personages  of  the  story  are  very  well  drawn,  —  indeed, 
'Amanda  Briggs'isas  good  as  anything  American  fiction  has  produced.  We 
fancy  we  could  pencil  on  the  margin  the  real  names  of  at  least  half  the  characters. 
It  is  a  book  for  the  wealthy  to  read  that  they  may  know  something  that  is  required 
of  them,  because  it  does  not  ignore  the  difficulties  in  their  way,  and  especially 
does  not  overlook  the  differences  which  social  standing  puts  between  class  and 
class.  It  is  a  deeply  interesting  story  considered  as  mere  fiction,  one  of  the  best 
which  has  lately  appeared.  We  hope  the  authoress  will  go  on  in  a  path  where 
she  has  shown  herself  so  capable."  —  The  Churchman. 

"In  Mrs.  Campbell's  novel  we  have  a  work  that  is  not  to  be  judged  by 
ordinary  standards.  The  story  holds  the  reader's  interest  by  its  realistic  pictures 
of  the  local  life  around  us,  by  its  constant  and  progressive  action,  and  by  the 
striking  dramatic  quality  of  scenes  and  incidents,  described  in  a  style  clear,  con- 
nected, and  harmonious.  The  novel-reader  who  is  not  taken  up  and  made  to 
share  the  author's  enthusiasm  before  getting  half-way  through  the  book  must 
possess  a  taste  satiated  and  depraved  by  indulgence  in  exciting  and  sensational 
fiction.  The  earnestness  of  the  author's  presentation  of  essentially  great  purposes 
lends  intensity  to  her  narrative.  Succeeding  as  she  does  in  impressing  us  strongly 
with  her  convictions,  there  is  nothing  of  dogmatism  in  their  preaching.  But  the 
suggestiveness  of  everv  chapter  is  backed  by  pictures  of  real  life."— Ntiu  York 
World.  , 

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NO    NAME     (THIRD)    SERIES. 

A     SUPERIOR    WOMAN 

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"  In  these  days  of  morbid  fiction,  when  to  describe  what  may  be  called  path- 
ological eccentricities  in  human  nature  seems  to  be  the  ambition  of  each  new 
novelUt,  it  is  as  unexpected  as  it  is  refreshing  to  come  upon  a  story  as  fresh  and 
wholesome  and  true  to  life  as  is  '  A  Superior  Woman.'  There  is  a  happy  fidelity 
to  nature  in  the  character-painting.  Even  the  lighter  sketches,  such  as  Mrs. 
Cleve,  Charley  and  Walter  Thorn,  and  the  Hemingway  sisterhood,  show  the 
same  sense  of  proportion  and  precision  of  stroke  which  makes  Rose  —  dear 
Rosamond  Leigh,  the  heroine  —  as  real  to  us  and  as  vitally  fresh  and  interesting 
as  any  girl  we  know  out  of  a  book." 

"  '  A  Superior  Woman  '  is  a  pleasant  and  delicate  story  of  an  earnest  young 
girl  whose  young  life  is  led  by  her  own  pure  and  sweet  sympathies,  her  loyal 
friendships,  and  her  most  practical  good  sense.  It  is  a  book  that  interests  deeply, 
but  never  thrills  its  readers  ;  because  it  deals  wholly  with  the  interests  of  to-day, 
and  to-day  has  but  few  tragedies,  and  but  few  comedies  that  are  in  any  sense  too 
strange  to  be  believed.  It  is  a  book  of  helpfulness  for  such  young  women  as 
desire  to  make  the  most  of  the  domestic  materials  at  hand,  and  also  for  such  young 
men  as  are  evolving  prospective  wives  and  toiling  for  prospective  firesides  of  their 
own.  In  fact,  it  is  a  treasure  for  all  those  who  are  in  search  of  the  'superior 
woman.'  The  novel  is  one  of  the  '  No  Name  '  series,  and  these  books  are  never 
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Almost  a  Duchess. 


"  It  is  an  intricate  but  well-constructed  romance  of  a  popular  English  class, 
in  which  there  are  many  love-complications,  a  number  of  marriages  and  deaths, 
with  the  usual  incidents  attending  all  such  events.  Some  of  these  are  marked 
with  dramatic  force,  and  the  story  is  so  well  told  and  so  steadily  carried  for- 
ward to  a  symmetrical  conclusion  that  it  is  sure  to  delight  a  large  class  of 
readers."  — Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 

"The  pretty  title,  'Almost  a  Duchess,'  strikes  the  key-note  of  the  novel. 
A  beautiful  English  girl  marries  a  youthful  French  Duke,  to  the  chagrin  of  his 
mother,  who  had  planned,  after  the  French  cut-and-dried  matrimonial  fashion, 
to  marry  him  to  a  French  damsel  of  high  degree  and  large  fortune.  After  his 
English  marriage,  the  son  visits  France  alone,  where  he  succumbs  to  his 
mother's  influence  and  the  blandishments  of  the  unscrupulous  French  girl,  and 
annuls  his  marriage,  which  he  learns  for  the  first  time  is  illegal  in  France,  if 
not  in  England,  under  the  technicalities  of  French  law.  This  gives  the 
foundation  to  a  rather  tragic  story,  which  will  interest  all  of  its  readers,  besides 
giving  them  an  insight  to  the  social  customs  in  French  life  of  high  rank,  and 
its  rigid  and  restrictive  marriage  laws,  that  make  slaves  of  the  sons  and 
daughters  of  France,  and  gives  opportunities  to  break  various  moral  con- 
siderations, and,  perhaps,  some  youthful  hearts.  Like  all  its  predecessors, 
'Almost  a  Duchess'  keeps  up  the  well-deserved  reputation  of  the  No  Name 
Series."  —  .Vezv  York  Times. 

"Some  of  the  scenes  are  highly  wrought  and  dramatic  ;  some  truly  pathetic. 
The  story  moves  on  without  weariness,  and  a  fine  woman's  hand  is  under  it 
all."  —  The  Graphic. 

" '  Almost  a  Duchess  '  is  a  delightful  and  entertaining  story,  —  quite  the  best 
we  have  had  lately  in  the  No  Name  Series."  —  The  Critic. 


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THE  WHAT-TO-DO  CLUB. 

A   STORY   FOR   GIRLS. 

By  Helen  Campbell. 
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"  '  The  What-to-do  Club  '  is  an  unpretending  story.  It  introduces  us  to  a 
dozen  or  more  village  girls  of  varying  ranks.  One  has  had  superior  opportuni- 
ties ;  another  exceptional  training ;  two  or  three  have  been  '  away  to  school ; ' 
some  are  farmers'  daughters ;  there  is  a  teacher,  two  or  three  poor  self-support- 
ers, —  in  fact,  about  such  an  assemblage  as  any  town  between  New  York  and 
Chicago  might  give  us.  But  while  there  is  a  large  enough  company  to  furnish  a 
delightful  coterie,  there  is  absolutely  no  social  life  among  them.  .  .  .  Town  and 
country  need  mors  improving,  enthusiastic  work  to  redeem  them  from  barrenness 
and  indolence.  Our  girls  need  a  chance  to  do  independent  work,  to  study  prac- 
tical business,  to  fill  their  minds  with  other  thoughts  than  the  petty  doings  of 
neighbors.  A  What-to-do  Club  is  one  step  toward  higher  village  life.  It  is  one 
step  toward  disinfecting  a  neighborhood  of  the  poisonous  gossip  which  floats  like 
a  pestilence  around  localities  which  ought  to  furnish  the  most  desirable  homes  in 
our  country." —  The  Clututauquan. 

" 'The  What-to-do  Club  '  is  a  delightful  story  for  girls,  especially  for  New 
England  girls,  by  Helen  Campbell.  The  heroine  of  the  story  is  Sybil  Waite,  the 
beautiful,  resolute,  and  devoted  daughter  of  a  broken-down  but  highly  educated 
Vermont  lawyer.  The  story  shows  how  much  it  is  possible  for  a  well-trained  and 
determined  young  woman  to  accomplish  when  she  sets  out  to  earn  her  own  living, 
or  help  others.  Sybil  begins  with  odd  jobs  of  carpentering,  and  becomes  an  artist 
in  woodwork.  She  is  first  jeered  at,  then  admired,  respected,  and  finally  loved 
by  a  worthy  man.  The  book  closes  pleasantly  with  John  claiming  Sybil  as  his 
own.  The  labors  of  Sybil  and  her  friends  and  of  the  New  Jersey  '  Busy  Bodies,' 
which  are  said  to  be  actual  facts,  ought  to  encourage  many  young  women  to  more 
successful  competition  in  the  battles  of  life."  —  Golden  Rule. 

"  In  the  form  of  a  story,  this  book  suggests  ways  in  which  young  women 
may  make  money  at  home,  with  practical  directions  for  so  doin;.  Stories  with  a 
moral  are  not  usually  interesting,  but  this  one  is  an  exception  to  the  rule.  The 
narrative  is  lively,  the  incidents  probable  and  amusing,  the  characters  well-drawn, 
aid  the  dialects  various  and  characteristic.  Mrs.  Campbell  is  a  natural  story- 
tel'er,  and  has  the  gift  of  making  a  tale  interesting.  Even  the  recipes  for  pickles 
and  preserves,  evaporating  fruits,  raising  poultry,  and  keeping  bees,  are  made 
poetic  and  invested  with  a  certain  ideal  glamour,  and  we  are  thrilled  and  absorbed 
by  an  array  of  figures  of  receipts  and  expenditures,  equally  with  the  changeful 
incidents  of  flirtation,  courtship,  and  matrimony.  Fun  and  pathos,  sense  and 
sentiment,  are  mingled  throughout,  and  the  combination  has  resulted  in  one  of 
the  brightest  stories  of  the  season."  —  Woman's  Journal- 


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Messrs,  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 

RAMONA:   A  Story. 

By  HELEN  JACKSON  (H.  H.). 

i2mo.     Cloth.     Price  $1.50. 


The  Atlantic  Monthly  says  of  the  author  that  she  is  "a  Murillo 
in  literature,"  and  that  the  story  "  is  one  of  the  most  artistic 
creations  of  American  literature."  Says  a  lady:  '"Tome  it  is  the 
most  distinctive  piece  of  work  we  have  had  in  this  country  since 
1  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,'  and  its  exquisite  fiuish  of  style  is  beyond  that 
classic."  '"The  book  is  truly  an  American  novel,"  says  the  Boston 
Advertiser.  "  Ramona  is  one  of  the  most  charming  creations  of 
medern  fiction,"  says  Charles  D  Warner  "  The  romance  of  the 
story   is   irresistibly   fascinating,"     says    The  Independent. 

"  The  best  novel  written  by  a  woman  since  George  Eltot  died,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  is  Mrs.  Jackson's  '  Ramona  '  What  action  is  thsre  t 
What  motion!  How  entrainant  it  is!  It  cairies  us  along  as  ii 
mounted  on  a  swift  horse's  back,  from  beginning  to  end,  and  it  is 
only  <vhen  we  return  for  a  second  reading  that  we  can  appreciate 
the  fine  handling  of  the  characters,  and  especially  the  Spanish 
mother,  drawn  with  a  stroke  as  keen  and  firm  as  that  which 
portrayed   George    Eliot's    '  Dorothea.'  "  —T.    W.  Higgmson. 

Unsolicited  tribute  of  a  stranger,  a  lady  in  Wisconsin  :  — 

"  I  beg  leave  to  thank  you  with  an  intense  heartiness  for  your 
public  espousal  cf  the  cause  of  the  Indian.  In  your  'Century  of 
Dishonor '  you  showed  to  the  country  its  own  disgrace.  In 
'Ramona 'you  have  dealt  most  tenderly  with  the  Indians  as  men 
and  women.  You  have  shown  that  their  stoicism  is  not  indiffer- 
ence, that  their  squalor  is  not  always  of  their  own  choosing.  You 
have  shown  the  tender  grandeur  of  their  love,  the  endurance  of 
their  constancy.  While,  by  '  Ramona,'  you  hive  made  your  name 
immortal,  you  have  done  something  which  is  far  greater.  You  are 
but  one:  they  are  mat-y.  You  have  helped  those  who  cannot  lie  p 
themselves.  As  a  novel,  'Ramona'  must  stand  beside  'Romola,' 
both  as  regards  literary  excellence  and  the  portrayal  of  life's  or 
most  vital,  most  solemn  interests.  I  think  nothing  in  literature 
since  Goldsmith's  '  Vicar  of  Wakefield  '  equals  your  description  of 
the  flight  of  Ramona  and  Alessandro.  Such  delicate  pathos  and 
tender  joy,  such  Dure  conception  of  lite's  realities,  and  such  loftiness 
of  self-abnegating  love  !     How  much  richer  and  happier  the  world 

is  with  '  Ramona '  in  it !  " 

» 

Sold  by  all  booksellers.    Af ailed,  postpaid,  by  the  publishers, 
ROBERTS  BROTHERS,  Boston. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Ptiblications. 

Z  E  P  H. 

A    POSTHUMOUS    STORY, 

By  HELEN  JACKSON  (H.  H.). 

One  volume.     i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,  $1.25. 


"  The  story  is  complete  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  a  few  chapters  remained  still 
to  be  written  when  the  writer  succumbed  to  disease.  Begun  and  mainly  com- 
pleted at  Los  Angeles  last  year,  the  manuscript  had  been  put  by  to  be  completed 
when  returning  health  should  have  made  continuous  labor  possible.  But  health 
never  returned;  the  disease  steadily  deepened  its  hold,  and  a  few  days  before  her 
death,  foreseeing  that  the  end  was  near,  Mrs  Jackson  sent  the  manuscript  to 
her  publisher,  with  a  brief  note,  enclosing  a  <hort  outline  of  the  chapters  which 
remained  unwritten.  .  .  .  The  real  lesson  of  the  book  lies  in  Zeph's  unconquer- 
able affection  fcr  his  worthless  wife,  and  in  the  beautiful  illustration  of  the  divine 
trait  of  forgiveness  which  he  constantly  manifested  toward  her.  As  a  portraiture 
of  a  character  moulded  and  guided  by  this  sentiment,  '  Zeph '  will  take  its  place 
with  the  best  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  work  ;  a  beautiful  plea  for  love  and  charity  and 
long-suffering,  patience  and  forgiveness,  coining  from  one  whose  hand  now  rests 
from  this  and  all  kindred  labors."  —  New  York  Christian  Union. 

"Although  the  beautiful  and  pathetic  story  of  Zeph '  was  never  quite  com- 
pleted, the  dying  author  indicated  what  remained  to  be  told  in  the  few  unwritten 
chapters,  and  it  comes  to  us,  therefore,  not  as  a  curious  fragment,  but  as  an  all 
but  finished  work.  There  is  something  most  tender  and  sad  in  the  supreme  artis- 
tic conscientiousness  of  one  who  could  give  such  an  illustration  of  fidelity  and  so 
emphasize  the  nobility  of  labor  from  her  death-bed.  These  things  that  bring 
back  the  gracious  spirit  from  whose  loss  the  heart  of  the  reading  world  is  still 
smarting,  would  lend  pathos  and  interest  to  '  Zeph  '  even  if  they  did  not  exist  in 
the  story  itself.  The  creation  of  'Zeph'  is  a  fitting  close  to  a  life  of  splendid 
literary  activity,  and  it  will  be  enjoyed  by  those  who  believe  in  the  novel  as,  first 
of  all,  a  work  of  art.  which  can  be  made  in  proper  hands  a  tremendous  force 
for  truth  and  justice,  and  real  instead  of  formal  righteousness." — New  York 
Commercial  A  dvertiser. 

"  As  people  grow  oldsr  they  see  more  and  more  clearly  that  love  —  the  love 
between  man  and  woman  — is  the  great  power  that  shapes  character,  and  makes 
life  a  blessing,  a  burdsn,  or  a  curse.  More  and  more  deeply  did  Mrs.  Jackson 
feel  the  omnipotence  of  perfect,  patient  love,  the  only  power  that  is  sure  of  final 
victory,  and  to  show  this  did  she  tell  the  story  of  Zeph.  Before  the  story  was 
finished,  Mrs.  Jackson  became  too  ill  to  work  any  more ;  but  the  life  of  Zeph  was 
very  near  her  heart;  she  wanted  to  make  it  known,  to  impress  the  lesson,  th.it 
through  knowledge  of  a  great  forgi/ing  human  love  even  the  saddest  and  most 
sinfil  creature  may  come  to  a  faith  in  a  great  forgiving  divine  love,  in  a  God  as 
good  as  she  has  known  a  man  to  be,  and  so  in  her  last  hours  Mrs.  Jackson  made 
a.  brief  outline  of  the  plot  for  the  end  of  the  story.  As  her  latest  work,  this  lias 
a  special  and  pathetic  interest."  —  Bos/on   pai/y  Advertiser. 


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ROBERTS    BROTHERS,   Boston. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR    0J<   " RAMONA." 


A  CENTURY  OF  DISHONOR: 

A  Sketch  of  the  United  States  Government's  Deal- 
ings with  some  of  the  Indian  Tribes.  By  Helen 
Jackson  (H.  H.),  Author  of  "  Ramona,"  "Verses,"  "Bits 
of  Travel,"  &c.  With  a  Preface  by  Bishop  Whipple,  an 
Introduction  by  President  Seelye,  and  Report  on  the 
Condition  and  Needs  of  the  Mission  Indians  of  Califor- 
nia, made  by  Special  Agents  Helen  Jackson  and  Abbot 
Kinney,  to  the  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs.  A  new 
enlarged  edition.     121110.     Cloth.     $1.50. 

Extract  from  a  letter  -written  by  the  author  to  Jur  publisher,  dated 
San  Francisco,  Aug.  I,  1SS5: 

"I  thank  you  from  my  heart  for  having  taken  'The  Century  of  Dis- 
honor.' I  shall  die  happier.  I  believe  you  will  be  rewarded  by  a  good 
sale,  as  well  as  by  my  gratitude.  There  are  enough  persons  interested 
in  the  Indian  side  of  'Ramona'  to  be  attracted  by  the  advertisement  of 
the  book  as  containing  a  full  account  of  the  Mission  Indians  and  the 
bands  to  which  Alessandro  belonged,  and  many  of  the  incidents  in 
'  Ramona; '  also,  those  who  have  thought  '  Ramona  '  overdrawn  will  see 
that  it  is  exact  history." 

"  A  number  of  striking  cases  of  breach  of  faith,  heartless  banishment  from  homes 
confirmed  to  the  Indians  by  solemn  treaties,  and  wars  wantonly  provoked  in  order  to 
make  an  excuse  for  dispossessing  them  of  their  lands,  are  grouped  together,  making  a 
panorama  of  outrage  and  oppression  which  will  arouse  the  humanitarian  instincts  of  the 
nation  to  the  point  of  demanding  that  justice  shall  be  done  toward  our  savage  wards.  .  . . 
'  H.  H.'  succeeds  in  holding  up  to  the  public  eye  a  series  of  startling  pictures  of  Indian 
wrongs,  drawn  from  a  century  of  American  history."  —  N.  Y.  Tribune. 

"A  concise  and  forcible  sketch  of  the  treatment  which  some  of  the  Indian  tiibes 
within  our  borders  have  received  at  our  hands"  —  N.  V.  Sun. 

"  The  author  of  this  book  has  brought  to  her  needful  task  a  ripe  scholarship  and  a 
facile  pen.  More  than  this,  she  has  evidently  undertaken  her  work  with  an  enthusiasm 
and  a  sympathy  with  the  wronged  which  none  but  a  tender-hearted  and  just  woman  can 
possess.  ...  It  is  not  possible  that  a  perusal  of  this  remarkable  story  of  a  nation's  dis- 
honor can  fail  to  arouse  the  people  of  the  United  States  to  a  sense  of  their  own  responsi- 
bility for  the  wicked  dealings  of  their  government  with  the  aborigines  of  our  country-"  — 
N.  V.  Times. 

"  Never  was  a  book  more  needed  or  more  timely.  .  .  .  Whatever  can  be  done  for  the 
Indians  by  an  earnest  purpose,  careful  study,  logical  statements,  and  righteous  indigna- 
tion, '  H.  H.'  has  done  in  this  book."  —  Atlantic  Monthly. 


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LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT'S  WRITINGS. 


"  Miss  Alcott  is  really  a  benefactor  of  households"  —  H.  H. 

"  Miss  Alcott  has  a  faculty  of  entering  into  the  lives  and  feelings  of 
children  that  is  conspicuously  wanting  in  most  writers  who  address  them 
and  to  this  cause,  to  the  consciousness  among  her  readers  that  they  are  hear* 
tag  about  people  like  themselves,  instead  of  abstract  qualities  labelled  -with 
names,  the  popularity  of  her  books  is  due."  —  Mrs.  Sarah  J.  Hale. 

/    "  Dear  Aunt  Jo !      You   are  embalmed  in  the  thoughts  and  loves  of 
thousands  of  little  men  and  little  women  "  —  Exchange. 


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THE    NO    NAME    NOVELS. 


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ALREADY    PUBLISHED: 

HER    CRIME.  LITTLE   SISTER. 

BARRINCTON'S    FATE. 

A    DAUGHTER    OF    THE    PHILISTINES. 

PRINCESS    AMEL1E.  DIANE    CORYVAL. 

ALMOST    A     DUCHESS. 

A    SUPERIOR    WOMAN.  JUSTINA. 

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TREASURE    ISLAND: 

<E  Storg  of  tfjc  Spanfeij  flam* 

By    ROBERT    LOUIS    STEVENSON. 

With  Illustrations  by  F.  T.  Merrill. 
i6mo.    Cloth,  Ji.oo ;  paper  covers,  50  cents. 


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it  is  a  book  for  boys,  with  a  boy-hero  and  a  string  of  wonderful  adventures. 
But  it  is  a  book  for  boys  which  will  be  delightful  to  all  grown  men  who  have  the 
sentiment  of  treasure-hunting  and  are  touched  with  the  true  spirit  of  the  Spanish 
Main.  Like  all  Mr.  Stevenson's  good  work,  it  is  touched  with  genius.  It  is 
written  — in  that  crisp,  choice,  nervous  English  of  which  he  has  the  secret  — with 
such  a  union  of  measure  and  force  as  to  be  in  its  way  a  masterpiece  of  narrative. 
It  is  rich  in  excellent  characterization,  in  an  abundant  invention,  in  a  certain  grim 
romance,  in  a  vein  of  what  must,  for  want  of  a  better  word,  be  described  as  melo- 
drama, which  is  both  thrilling  and  peculiar.  It  is  the  work  of  one  who  knows  all 
there  is  to  be  known  about  '  Robinson  Crusoe,'  and  to  whom  Dumas  is  some- 
thing more  than  a  great  amuseur ;  and  it  is  in  some  ways  the  best  thing  he  has 
produced." — London  Saturday  Review. 

"  His  story  is  skilfully  constructed,  and  related  with  untiring  vivacity  and  genuine 
dramatic  power.  It  is  calculated  to  fascinate  the  old  boy  as  well  as  the  young, 
the  reader  of  Smollett  and  Dr.  Moore  and  Marryatt  as  well  as  the  admirer  of  the 
dexterous  ingenuity  of  Poe.  It  deals  with  a  mysterious  island,  a  buried  treasure, 
the  bold  buccaneer,  and  all  the  stirring  incidents  of  a  merry  life  on  the  Main.  .  .  . 
We  can  only  add  that  we  shall  be  surprised  if  'Treasure  Island  '  does  not  satisfy 
the  most  exacting  lover  of  perilous  adventures  and  thrilling  situations."—  London 
A  cademy. 

"  Any  one  who  has  read  '  The  New  Arabian  Nights  '  will  recognize  at  once 
Mr.  Stevenson's  qualifications  for  telling  a  good  buccaneer  story.  Mr.  Steven- 
son's genius  is  not  wholly  unlike  that  of  Poe,  but  it  is  Poe  strongly  impregnated 
with  Marryatt.  Yet  we  doubt  if  either  of  those  writers  ever  succeeded  in  making 
a  reader  identify  himself  with  the  supposed  narrator  of  a  story,  as  he  cannot  fail 
to  do  in  the  present  case.  As  we  follow  the  narrative  of  the  boy  Jim  Hawkins 
we  hold  our  breath  in  his  dangers,  and  breathe  again  at  his  escapes."—  London 

Athetueum. 

t 

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Messrs.    Roberts   Brothers    Publications. 

TRAVELS  WITH  A  DONKEY 

IN    THE    CEVENNES. 

By  ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON. 

With    Frontispiece    Illustration    by    Walter    Crane.      i6mo. 
Paper  covers,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 


"This  is  one  of  the  brightest  books  of  travel  that  has  recently  come  to  our 
notice.  The  author,  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  sees  every  tiling  with  the  eye  of  a 
philosopher,  and  is  disposed  to  see  the  bright  rather  than  the  dark  side  of  what 
passes  under  his  observation.  He  has  a  steady  flow  of  humor  that  is  as  ap|  ar- 
rently  spontaneous  as  a  mountain  brook,  and  he  views  a  landscape  or  a  human 
figure,  not  only  as  a  tourist  seeking  subjects  for  a  book,  but  as  an  artist  to  whom 
the  slightest  line  or  tint  conveys  a  definite  impression."  —  Boston  Courier. 

"  A  very  agreeable  companion  for  a  summer  excursion  is  brought  to  our  side 
without  ceremony  in  this  lively  reprint  of  a  journal  of  travel  in  the  interior  of 
France.  For  all  locomotive  or  four-horse  stage  coach,  the  writer  had  chartered  a 
little  she-ass,  not  much  bigger  than  a  dog,  whom  he  christened  '  Modestine,'  and 
whose  fascinating  qualities  soon  proved  that  she  was  every  way  worthy  of  the 
name.  Mounted  on  this  virtuous  beast,  with  an  inordinate  supply  of  luggage 
slung  over  her  patient  back  in  a  sheepskin  bag,  the  larder  well  provided  with 
cakes  of  chocolate  and  tins  of  Bologna  sausage,  cold  mutton  and  the  potent  wine 
of  Beaujolais,  the  light-hearted  traveller  took  his  way  to  the  mountains  of  South- 
ern France.  He  has  no  more  story  to  tell  than  had  the  '  weary  knife-grinder,' 
but  he  jots  down  the  little  odds  and  ends  of  his  journey  in  an  off-hand,  garrulous 
tone  which  sounds  as  pleasantly  as  the  careless  talk  of  a  cheerful  companion  in  a 
country  ramble.  The  reader  must  not  look  for  nuggets  of  gold  in  these  slight 
pages,  but  the  sparkling  sands  which  they  shape  into  bright  forms  are  botli  .it 
tractive  and  amusing."  —  N.  3'.   'Tribune. 

"'Travels  with  a  Donkey'  is  charming,  full  of  grace,  and  humor,  and  fresh- 
ness :  such  refined  humor  ii  all  is,  too,  and  so  evidently  the  work  of  a  gentleman. 
I  am  half  in  love  with  him,  and  much  inclined  to  think  that  a  ramble  anywhere 
with  such  a  companion  must  be  worth  taking.  What  a  happy  knack  he  has  of 
giving  the  taste  of  a  landscape  or  any  out-door  impression  in  ten  words!  " 


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